


Pride and Honor

by Sugarhihihello



Series: Under One Banner [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Love Triangles, Polyamory, Relationship(s), Romance, Slow Build, Smut, Solavellan, cullenmance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:02:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 55
Words: 55,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2905226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugarhihihello/pseuds/Sugarhihihello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lahria Lavellan finds herself falling in love with Solas and Cullen at the same time.</p><p>(no smut 'til ch 16 and even then it's not very smutty ok, this isn't a super smut fic it's way more about feelings)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Some information:
> 
> Some people have started reading this without playing the game, which is so amazing. HI! ENJOY MY FIC! For those of you who haven't played it, THERE ARE SPOILERS here, but also I HAVE INCLUDED LINKS TO PLOT-RELEVANT CUT SCENES at the beginnings of chapters/scenes. Watch those videos before reading each section if you are interested in following along with the larger plot.
> 
> Parts of this were previously posted as a Solas-centric piece called "Vhenan'ara," which I've since then taken down.
> 
> This loosely follows the storyline in the game, but sometimes Cullen goes on patrol, and there are lots of extras, obviously. 
> 
> Previously titled "Herald of Hearts" but was changed due to initial title being godawful.

 

 [[Relevant cut scene: [watch](http://youtu.be/L0jXLQ-HnvY). You can stop at 3:21]]

Green light and the screams of horrors I had only ever seen in nightmares - stories to frighten children, especially those of us with power. “Magic is a gift,” the Keeper had said to those of us gathered around her on the grass. “But that doesn’t mean it is without dangers.”

Searing pain in my hand as I grip the unfamiliar staff, sending ice in all directions. Talons made of fury instead of flesh, singing the air as they swipe at my face. _Dangers indeed_.

I was drowning in shrieking chaos. _I’m going to die_.

Then thin fingers encircled my wrist, pulled me up, streamed power from the pain. A voice at my ear – a roar. Then all was still.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.”

From the beginning, he was my calm in the storm.

\----

 [[Relevant cut scene: [watch](http://youtu.be/A1NPGyGeubQ)]] 

 

And yet when I met Cullen, I couldn't tear my eyes away. His presence, his voice – everything in him spoke of strength. _Command_.

Corypheus had punched holes through the sky, through me. Missing memories. Running from horrors. I had no solid place to stand.

And there he was, giving direction, clearing a path, watching my back.

Order _and_ peace.

I desperately needed both.

 


	2. Haven

[[For plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/0DW2oL8JKEA)]]

 _Herald. Herald. Herald_. Everywhere I went in Haven, someone wanted something, even if they just wanted to see me - _Andraste’s messenger_ \- the little elf girl who fell out of the fade with hope in her hand.

I stared down at it – the mark. It stopped hurting so much, just a dull ache now and then, but some nights it flared green and I would wake, panicked, grasping for my staff in the dark, sure that a rift had opened in my bedroom and soon the demons would come pouring out.

I wandered near the apothecary, away from the clash of templars training and the greedy, hungry eyes of everyone else.

I scrabbled up the stones, kicked away the snow, and settled down. With my back against the tree, I faced away from Haven. If I leaned far enough back, all I could see was the mountains. And the rift. But honestly, the rift was almost relaxing compared to the cloying pressure of everything else. The rift was just so far away.

I heard footsteps crunching on the gravel path.

“Fenedhis!” I hissed under my breath. _I thought I was careful._

“Lavellan?” I heard Solas call as his bare feet pressed gently on the stone. “Lahria?” There was a note of hesitation when he called me by my first name.

I said nothing, hoping he would go away, but there aren’t many places to hide on a pile of rocks.

“I thought I saw you come by here.” He stood over me, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “May I join you?”

I tucked my legs against myself to make room, and he settled on the ground beside me.

We sat in silence for a while, staring up at the hole in the sky.

“Tell me about one of your walks in the fade,” I said. “Something good.”

And he did.

 

\---

 

[[Relevant cut scene: [watch](http://youtu.be/RlxakqWJX2E)]]

The strongest warriors in my clan still worked with daggers and bows, not steel. They wore leather, not the flashing, clanking armor of the Inquisition's soldiers. I watched them train, cautiously, from the gate.

 _Templars_. Nearly as horrifying and distant to my everyday life as the demons had been. Savage shems, locking their children away, imprisoning them for their gifts. They were the example of how our way of life was better.

“Lady Lavellan,” Cullen calls out when he notices me. He gestures with his head for me to come closer.

I step carefully towards him. It feels like walking into a den of bears.

He discusses his men – our soldiers – and their strengths. _He is so comfortable here, in this role_. His ease, the way he corrects those training and accepts and dismisses messengers as we speak – I'm surprised by how comforting it is. This small corner of Haven makes perfect sense.

“I was there at the mage uprising. I saw the devastation it caused.”

_And here I stand, with my staff and soft robes._

The sense of danger creeps back in. I shiver. He doesn't notice. Instead, he looks me in the eye, tells me why he joined the Inquisition. His confidence and passion for his cause – _our_ cause, I remind myself – takes the tension out of my shoulders again.

“Forgive me. I doubt you came here for a lecture.”

“No, I came because I was curious.” I smile up at him. “But I'd love to keep listening, if you have more to say.”

Cullen laughs. He gets lost for a second, his grin going crooked across his face. Then I see his confidence crack. He stutters. My heart stutters too.

“I'll let you get back to work.”


	3. Night Watch

I could still see their faces, hear them scream as I lit them on fire. Hollow, angry guilt chewed at my insides, made me restless.

They were afraid. We're all _so afraid_. I couldn't even blame them for their actions, for banding together and striking out in fear. If I didn't have the mark on my hand, would I have been so different?

Haven with its buildings and people – so many people. I missed my clan, my forest. So I ran, soft shoes pounding on the snow, scrambled up some rocks, and vaulted myself over the wall. I landed hard, but I liked the hurt. I took off running to the spindly woods. These trees were barely old enough to be considered trees. I wrapped my hands around their trunks, let my feet find purchase among their roots.

The long grass swished against my knees, and I heard the few night creatures still active in this cold scurry out of my path. I let myself go, got lost in the real world. With determination, I ignored the green pallor cast by the rift, so green it drowned out the moon.

I ran, feet and heart pounding in unison, until I was too exhausted to remember I couldn't count the lives I'd taken in the Hinterlands. I couldn't give you their names. I couldn't hold them all; all those lives, all that death.

Eventually I was nothing but clouds of breath and trembling limbs. I had circled back at some point, and could see the tents of Haven outside the walls. Reluctantly, I headed back. The compound was dark, hulking shapes against the sky. Dim fires burned by the soldier's tents for the few men who were still on watch.

_What time is it?_ I wondered idly, knowing tomorrow I would be even more exhausted than-

A glint of metal in the dark, then there was cold steel pressed against my throat and a rough hand around my waist, trapping my arms. I gasped.

“Don't move.” He had me pressed against his body, armor sharp against my back.

“Cullen!” I breathed. “Cullen, it's me. Lahria.”

“Lahria?” The blade wavered. “Makers' breath! Lady Lavellan!” He released me.

I spun to find him sheathing his sword, head bowed. “I am so sorry. I thought- what are you doing out here so late?”

“I... I couldn't sleep.”

“Ah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know that all too well.”

“Is that why you're out here grabbing girls in the dark instead of sleeping?”

“I – what?” He blushed so hard I could see it in the gloom. “You were sneaking into camp in the middle of the night! I thought you were an enemy.”

“And do you hold all your enemies so close?” My run had made me reckless, and he was _such_ an easy mark.

“I... I don't... I mean...”

I burst out laughing. “Oh, Commander.”

He was looking anywhere but at me. “Listen, uh, Lady Lavellan. It's not safe for you to be leaving Haven this late at night.”

I sighed.

“My men are here to keep Haven safe – including you. They can't do that if you leave.”

“I'm not used to being cooped up in a building. Or a fort. I can't stand it sometimes. It's easier when I'm out there-” _Out in the Hinterlands, killing mages and templars and bandits._ I shivered.

“You're freezing. Let's go sit by the fire. It'll warm you up.”

Cassandra looted their bodies after. Went through their pockets with such efficiency, reading their letters to loved ones, looking for information. _Information_.

Cullen had started heading towards the fires, had put an hand on my shoulder, expecting me to go with him, but I hadn't moved.

“Lady Lavellan?”

“Lahria,” I snapped. “I'm not a lady. I'm an elf.”

“I'm sorry.” His hand was still on my shoulder, warm, grounding. “I didn't mean-”

“No, I'm sorry.” I rubbed at my face. “I'm just... I'm kind of a mess tonight.”

He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “I'm probably not the best person for these kinds of things, but if you want to talk, I could listen.”

I look back at him, at the sincerity on his face. _He cares._ So I take a deep breath, nod, and follow him to the fires, where I tell him everything. 


	4. In Your Heart Shall Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After sealing the breach ... The attack on Haven.

[[Cutscene to help follow the plot: [Watch](http://youtu.be/m1BjuICPiss). Stop at 2:15]]

Every time Solas looks at me, the intensity in his face makes me turn my eyes away. I'm getting stronger as we go, able to handle the monsters, the deaths. I'm coming into my own, I suppose, out there, in the field. But then I come back to Haven, and everything throws me off again.

Even now, breach sealed, my balance is off. Solas is sitting by himself, watching the festivities.

“Enjoying the celebration?” I ask as I settle near him.

“I'm enjoying watching the celebration.”

Clusters of people drink and laugh and tell stories. Couples swirl around to impromptu dances by the fire. I nudge him with my elbow. “Want to dance?”

“With you? Of course.”

I tug him forward with my hands and pull him into the circle of dancers. Everyone is moving so fast. I don't know most of the steps the others are doing – Fereldian and Orlesian dances, likely. Solas doesn't imitate them. He steps behind me and takes one hand in his.

“Da'ssan, Da'mi?” He asks, and I gasp. The rhythm of the song being played is very similar one sung often at Dalish weddings.

I giggle. “Are we playing the happy couple, then?”

“Why not?” He guides me in a spin then steps back, eyes alight with laughter.

Together we act out the steps of the song, modifying them to fit the rhythm the others are dancing to. A few people stop to watch us. Many shems never see this dance, and the bastardization done by city elves looks nothing like the elegant twists we are doing.

When the song ends, the dance isn't finished, and we complete the rest in silence. I am laughing and dizzy by the end. On the last spin, I lose my balance, and Solas catches me, my face coming to rest at his collarbone.

“My mother would be so proud,” I mock. “She's told me often enough that she wanted to see me dance this dance.” I pull away and smile. “Of course, I'm sure she meant something different.”

Solas gives an elegant bow. “Thank you for this dance, my lady.”

I attempt a curtsy in my robes. Josephine would be ashamed. “Oh, serrah. The pleasure was mine.” I catch my breath. “How do you know a Dalish wedding dance?”

“It's Elven, not just Dalish. My parents danced it, as did others of my family. It was probably a little different than in your clan, but the basic steps are the same.”

We smile at each other a beat too long before I hear Cassandra's call. “Herald, a word?”

“Duty calls.” I head to meet my Seeker, and cast one last glance at Solas.

 

\---

 [[For plot following: Resume [previous video](http://youtu.be/m1BjuICPiss) at 2:15]]

As the bells clang to signal an attack, I run immediately to Cullen. We all do, seeming to gravitate to his side, knowing he'll have answers. A plan.

His fury at the templars is evident as he barks orders to me, to his men. I can't stop thanking the Creators he is here.

While Cole explains, the blood rushes to my head. I'm petrified.

“Cullen! Give me a plan. Anything.” _Make sense of this. Tell me what to do._

And he does.

 

\---

 [[For plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/mdUuacYKp-8)]]

Solas and I save as many as we can, with Cassandra and Bull at our side. He saves me more than once, freezing swords meant to come down on my head.

At last we fall back to the Chantry, dragon circling overhead. I can still hear people screaming. I didn't save them all.

But we work together, figure out a way to save as many as we can.

“But what of your escape?” I can hear Cullen's breath hitch when he answers his own question in his mind. “Perhaps you will surprise it, find a way...”

I can't look at him.

 

\---

 

Solas stands beside me as I turn the trebuchet, his staff a swirling arc around us, forcing the enemies away from me with mind magic and fire. I can't think about anything except turning this crank. I try to cast a spell, but falter. My hands are shaking.

“I've got you,” he shouts above the noise. “Just keep turning.”

So I do.

 

\---

 [[For plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/sW7GXAdwUzY)]]

The world was fire, then darkness, then cold. So cold. I stumble forward in the snow, robes damp and clinging to me. They form an icy crust over my arms and legs that reforms as fast as I can break it off.

I don't know where I'm going except forward. Away from Corypheus. Away from Haven.

Finally I hear Cassandra's voice and I collapse. I don't care if it's a dream, a hallucination. I don't care.

“Stand aside,” I hear Cullen's thundering voice, his command voice. “I've got her.” He lifts me from the snow and cradles me to his chest. I can feel his warm breath on my face.

“Cullen...” I try to force out the words. My head is throbbing and I can't feel my fingers or my feet. “Cullen, I-”

“Hush.” His voice is so soft. “I've got you. It's alright.” His hold grows tighter. “You're safe now.”

“Lahria!” I can hear Solas' voice as Cullen sets me on something soft. I try to open my eyes, to see what's happening to me, but I can't. “Ma'dareth.” I feel familiar hands on my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face. Was I covering my face?

I crack my eyes open to see Cullen's face as he kneels over me. His face is so beautiful, eyes welling with tears, smiling.

“Here,” Solas tips my chin with his hand. “Drink this.” Something disgusting is pouring down my throat and I cough. “Swallow, Lahria.”

I do, and slowly, eventually, I fall asleep.

 

[[For plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/k5hoH8D89Fg). This is one of the biggest plot points in the game, sorry for so many videos!]]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I made up the "Da'ssan, Da'mi." It means "Little arrow, little knife." I imagine it being a dance that accompanies the song about two hunters falling in love.


	5. Skyhold

[[For plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/JSrjJ1xPVm0)]]

My new quarters are enormous. They feel too big, and too... well they're a room, made of stone, with lead-paned windows and a bed bigger than the Keeper's tent back home.

I avoid spending time in my quarters whenever I can.

“Inquisitor,” Cullen bows to me when he sees me. “I hear you're heading out.”

I had asked him before to stop bowing, but it hadn't stopped him. “I am. We're off to the Hinterlands.” I grimaced. “Again.”

“I'm waiting on Harding's scouts to report back from the Exalted Plains. You can head there next time. Should be a nice change of pace.”

I nod and mount my Hart, “See you when we get back.”

“Maker be with you, Inquisitor.”

 

\---

 

Each of the dragon’s footfalls shakes the ground, rattles the teeth in my skull. The Iron Bull laughs and swings his axe in deadly arcs while Cole darts nimbly from shadow to shadow. I grip my staff like it’s the only thing keeping me standing.

“Lahria,” Solas says beside me, his eyes never leaving the frostback. All his motions are fluid. “We can do this.”

And just like breathing, our barriers circle each other, one rising when the other fades, muffling the roar of the beast and keeping us safe.

When it’s over, I laugh wildly, let the Iron Bull lift me up over his horns. I’m still shaking. _We survived._ “Have a drink with me,” he says, loud like thunder, but I step back.

“Maybe later.”

My footsteps bring me to Solas’ room, to the balcony beside, where he sits in the moonlight and turns a single scale over and over in his hands. Without greeting, or prompting, he begins to speak.

“People used to worship dragons, a long time ago. Small cults lived in harmony, in caves, the dragons and humans and elves co-existing. Not all of them were peaceful, of course, but…” The mint green shimmers as it spins and spins. “They have the capacity.”

“Dragons or people?”

He grins at me. It’s rare enough, and… _precious_. I can feel my cheeks warm.

 

\---

 

“A dragon? You killed a dragon?” Cullen sounded angry. I flinched. “Forgive me, Inquisitor. I, um.” He rubs his neck and turns away. “I have things to do. I didn't mean to...”

Ever since Cullen told me he wasn't taking lyrium, I've been watching him. I had been watching him before... his way with the soldiers, his competency, his strength and his rare smiles. But now I watched him with concern. Sometimes when he thinks no one is watching, he will close his eyes, rub his temples. Sometimes he seems exhausted just from standing up.

“Commander,” I say to him in front of his men. I keep my hands folded behind my back and look as stern as I can.

“Inquisitor.” Cullen bows slightly.

“I need to speak with you.”

“Right.” He nods to a woman, one of his lieutenants I think, and steps away.

I walk through the main hall, past Josephine's desk. She gets up to follow but I wave her off.

When the door to the war room shuts behind us, I sigh and stretch my arms above my head. “Alright, Commander. Sit. I'm ordering you to sit.”

He sits in a chair by the wall, somehow looking like he's still at full attention.

“What did you need, Inquisitor?”

I turn to him and smile. “I needed you to take a break.”

“What?”

“You look exhausted. If your Inquisitor insists you take a break, then, well, you must.”

He frowns and gets to his feet. “Is this about... before? About my not taking lyrium? Because I am perfectly capable-”

I shove him back in the chair. He goes willingly. There's no way I could actually push him around. “It's not about that. It's about you being prone to working yourself to death. Varric is right. You need to relax.”

He does, a little, sinking into the chair. “Alright, fine. I'm relaxing.”

“Good.” I lean against the war table and watch him. He's uncomfortable under my gaze, but he's so lovely I don't want to stop looking.

“Did you really kill a dragon?”

“Josephine's turning the skull into some kind of show piece for aristocrats. Once it's all prettied up, you can go see it.”

“Maker's breath.” He shakes his head. “Why did you do that?"

“We left camp. It started breathing fire. It wasn't as if I intentionally baited it into attacking us.”

He shakes his head again. “I wish I'd have been there. You're in enough danger without taking on dragons.”

“You wish you could have taken it down yourself?”

“No. I-” Cullen blushed a little. I pretended not to notice. “I like it better when you're in Skyhold, where I can keep you safe.”

I stepped away from the table, closer to him. “You said that about Haven, and I was still-”

He shook his head. “We almost lost you.”

“Did you...” I faltered. “My memories are hazy, mostly just snow, and then singing.” I chuckled. “You have a lovely singing voice.”

“Ha! I was forced to sing in the choir as a boy. Thank the Chantry if you like it so much.”

I grinned, then continued. “Well I just... I think I remember you carrying me. Did that actually happen?”

“I, well. Yes. I did. Carry you, that is.”

“Ah.”

“Someone had to. You couldn't walk.”

“I'm sure Josephine could have managed.”

He laughed. “Oh yes. I'm sure.”

I stepped toward the door. “Well, rest here as long as you like, Commander. And... thank you, for taking care of me after Haven.”

“Solas helped. And there were chantry sisters. Lots of fussing.”

I tucked a lock of hair behind my hair. “But I remember you holding me, and telling me it was going to be okay. It helped. Thank you.”

Cullen didn't look at me. “You're welcome, Inquisitor.”

“And call me Lahria, if you please.”

“I don't think that's a good idea. Chain of command is-”

“When we're alone, then?"

He met my eyes, a grin on his lips. “Are we going to be alone often?”

My eyes went wide. Was he flirting with me? I didn't think he was capable of doing much but blushing. “I- well. I don't know.”

He smirked. “Well, until next time, Lahria.”

I tugged open the door before he could see me turn red for once. 


	6. Lethallan

I found myself in Solas' room often, even when he wasn’t there. It felt like gravity, like roots growing down no matter which way the seed turns. People found him odd. Not as odd as Cole, but even I didn’t want to be around Cole for long. People stayed away from Solas, from his room and his books and his solemnity.

_They must not notice the openness_ , I think. _Just the stillness, not the warmth._

He stepped into his room and went straight to his desk without acknowledging me. He knew I was there, but we often sat in companionable silence instead of talking. Other times, we’d talk so passionately and animatedly there didn’t seem to be enough space between us for all our words.

“Lethallan,” he said, conversationally, “Could you come look at this?”

I jerked my head up so fast, my neck popped. “What?”

“Those runes we were discussing the other day? I found something similar to one of them in another volume, but it’s altered enough that I think it might be a different rune entirely. I wanted your opinion on it."

My pulse was thrumming loud as a hart’s hooves as I stepped toward him and looked down at the book. I saw nothing. I read nothing. _Lethallan_.

After a few moments, he asked, “Well? What do you think?”

“I’m sorry,” I rubbed my head and laughed. It sounded wrong. “I’m not really concentrating well today.”

“Today? Or just right now?”

I swallowed.

He methodically thumbed through the book’s pages. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course we are.”

“Then the term fits.” His hands continued their turning, slow and steady like water on the shore.

I took a few breaths, eyes roaming his profile. How carefully he kept his eyes away. “Leliana wanted to see me. Herald stuff.” I backed away, knowing the distance to the door by heart.

“Farewell.”

I paused at the threshold, hand on the door. “I’ll talk with you later… Lethallin.”

His hands went still.


	7. Fade Kissed

[[Cut scene that goes with this chapter: [watch](http://youtu.be/jIhRvEl0Mhw)]] 

“You change... everything.”

He looked away, shoulders tight. _Always so controlled_.

“ _Indomitable focus?”_

“ _I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine that the sight would be... fascinating.”_

The same could be said for him.

I tipped his face towards me and kissed him. He startled for a second then sank into the kiss, arms around me, face pressed against mine. I pulled away, letting it be what it was, sweet and simple, but he pulled me in again. _And again_.

_Wake up._

I gasped awake, filled with wonder, not afraid. I was so used to waking in the dark, alone, and terrified. Sitting up by the window waiting for the sun, watching Cullen’s shadow pacing against the candlelight until we both went down for breakfast.

Instead, this morning, I ran, streaking through the main hall and nearly knocking down the door to Solas’ room. He sat up with a yawn, pillow marks across his cheek, and smiled. Not a grin, not just a hint of light in his eyes, but a _smile_.

“Good morning,” he yawned. “I am ready for your questions.”

“First,” I beamed, breathless. “Can we do that again?”

“The dream? Or the..."

“Both."

His smile faltered then. “It was reckless, and selfish of me to encourage it. It won't happen again.”

 _Oh_. “What if I want it to happen again?”

“I...” He looked away. “Maybe. If I could have time to think.”

“Take all the time you need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like words just kind of ruin the perfection of that scene, so I didn't want to dwell too long, except to point out that at this point in the story, it has happened.


	8. The Ball

Sometimes I found myself looking at Solas and thinking of water – still, calm, running deep. But water isn't always still. Sometimes it's a waterfall. Sometimes it's a tempest.

“Why do you keep leaving me behind, Lethallan?” His voice filled his entire room, bounced off the rafters above. “You're dealing with demons, with spirits coming through and possessing the dead. I can help with that.”

“Dorian and Vivienne are more than capable-”

“Capable, yes.” He was standing so close. Shouting. “But they don't know what I know. They haven't gone where I've gone.”

“Solas-”

“I am happy to study our enemies and share what I know, but I can do more than that. I can't just sit here and do nothing while you're-” He pulled himself back, putting space between us. “You are deliberately leaving me out, and I want to know why.”

After the sudden storm, his silence felt wrong. I didn't know how to explain why. I never thought he would notice.

“I actually came here,” I started, slowly, “because I want you to come with me to stop Celene's assassination.”

The muscles in his face relaxed. “Oh. My apologies. I spoke too soon.”

“It's happening at this ball. It's a week from now, and-”

“A ball?” The dark clouds were gathering in his face again. “And how is an elven apostate supposed to help at a  _ball_.”

“I don't need that kind of help. I have Josephine and Vivienne for that.”

Solas looked confused. “Then-“

“I just need you.” There was too much truth in that, and I quickly stumbled on. “I’m an elven apostate too, remember.”

“But you’re the Inquisitor.”

“That might almost be worse.” I tried to smile.

He sighed. “You know I will go anywhere you need me to go.”

 

\---

 [[Plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/a3F6bEYpwFE) stop at 9:06, then [watch](http://youtu.be/jIi-yACQvIs?t=48s), start at 0:48]]

I found Solas among the dresses and masks, leaning against a wall, slightly hidden from view, listening.

I snickered. “You look ridiculous in that outfit.” And that _hat_.

“As do you.” He grinned. “Bull looks worse.”

“I heard Josephine convincing him to wear it. She’s a miracle worker. Maybe she should be the Herald.”

“Perhaps.”

“Is it all as bad as you imagined?”

He frowned. “The ball is fascinating. I never objected to coming. My issue was with your bringing me here, but not taking you with you when you fight giants and demons and entire castles full of bandits.”

I feigned interest in the dancing.

“Are you-“ He hesitated, shook his head. “It sounds ridiculous. Are you trying to protect me?”

I fiddled with the cuffs on my jacket. “Can we not talk about this here?”

Solas rolled back on his heels. “You _are_ trying to protect me.”

“I need to go and-“

He leaned closer to me. “I am perfectly capable of protecting myself,  _Lethallan_.” He put a hard edge to the word that made me wince.

“I know, I-“

“And how is that fair to the others? They take all the risks while you pick and choose who you keep safe?”

“It’s not like that!”

Our hushed conversation was getting louder, and several pairs of eyes swiveled to us behind their masks.

“I’ll talk to you later.”

Before he could say anything more, I was gone.

 

\---

 

“I’ve heard you and Solas had words earlier,” Leliana said under her breath as we walked together. “Rumors are spreading of an elven conspiracy in the Inquisition.”

I swore under my breath. “It was nothing of the sort.”

“I know. There are other rumors it was a lover’s spat.”

My cheeks glowed pink. Leliana stopped walking. “We need to work on your poker face.”

“Leliana-“

“I won’t say anything.”

“It’s really not like that.”

She held a finger against her lips and smiled. “Be careful, Inquisitor. Save it for when we get back to Skyhold.”

 

\---

 [[Relevant cut scene: resume [previous video](http://youtu.be/a3F6bEYpwFE?t=9m6s) at 9:06, stop at 10:37]]

“You have admirers,” I grin at Cullen, who looks like he's one step away from punching someone.

“Maker, keep them away from me.”

I laughed. “Dance with me. Leaning against the wall here – you're easy prey.”

“I... I don't dance.”

“What?”

“Templar training doesn't include dance lessons.”

“Neither does Dalish Keeper training, you realize. We could make fools of ourselves together.”

He smiled. “As... tempting as that sounds, I'm going to pass.”

“Your loss, Commander.”

 

\---

 

We stood back to back, staves spinning, sharing one barrier under the rift. Solas kept the demons back while I disrupted the rift time and time again.

When it was finally closed, I grinned at him. “And you thought balls wouldn’t be exciting.”

“Everything’s exciting around you, Boss,” said Bull.

Solas didn’t seem amused.

 

\---

 [[Relevant cut scene: [watch](http://youtu.be/q8_I_cINCoU) ... eugh that horrible hat I'm so sorry]]

When it was over, I rested my elbows on the balcony and dug my hands into my hair.  _So many deaths._  So many choices, too.

“I’m surprised you didn’t push harder for Briala to be empress.” Solas came and stood beside me.

“It would have been chaos. An elven empress. We don’t need any more chaos right now.”

He was quiet, staring out at the gardens.

“Lethallin,” I began, “About earlier…” But he cut me off.

“Have you not considered that maybe I want to protect you, too?” He turned, moving in so I could see his face. “I trust Dorian and Vivienne, but I feel better knowing my own spells are the ones keeping you safe.”

“I… It’s just hard,” I said instead. “I don’t want you – any of you – to die for my sake.”

“I know. But you’ll just have to trust  us to take care of ourselves.” He gave me a soft smile, then looked back out at the gardens.

In the ensuing silence, he shifted away from me and bowed, holding out a hand. “Would you care to dance?”

I grinned. “Yes.”

He pressed me close to him, spinning us in an elegant dance. Eventually I gathered the courage to put my head on his shoulder, and he tucked his chin against my hair.

Around and around we spun in slower and slower circles. _Ma vhenan_ , I thought to myself. _Ar'nuvenin dirth ma_.

”The music's stopped." He said, lifting his head from mine.

"It has." I didn't pull away, but tipped my face up into his.

His face held that unreadable expression I had seen more and more often there. "Lethallan," he whispered and rested his forehead against mine.

 _Emma lath_ , my heart responded.

”Do you..." he began, then closed his eyes. "Would you..."

But I heard Cullen in the hallway, asking Leliana where I was. Solas heard him, too.

"I'll meet you back at Skyhold." Solas gave me a stiff, formal bowed and stepped away.

"Wait, Solas!"

But Cullen was in the doorway, then. Grinning at me.

My head was a whirl.

 

\---

 [[Relevant cut scene: [watch](http://youtu.be/XTWkGO9OSDQ)]]

“I was worried for you,” Cullen said, resting a hand on my shoulder. “But… I'm always worried about you.”

I smiled at that, but tonight had been too much. I wanted to sleep.

Cullen cleared his throat. “Since you, ah... you asked earlier, I thought I'd take my chances now.”

I turned to see him bowing, hand outstretched, much like Solas had. The posture looked better on Cullen, though. It fit. 

“I thought you didn't dance?”

“I don't. Be prepared for a sort of... circular waddling.”

I laughed and took his hand. He guided me toward the center of the balcony.

“My apologies in advance if I step on you.”

I tapped my boots against the balcony. “I’ve been stepped on by worse.”

He took my hand with one hand, and put his other arm around my waist. I whispered half a curse under my breath and he looked down, “Did I trod on you already?”

“No. It’s nothing. Sorry.” _He's always wearing armor. I'm sure he never feels this soft._

We swayed, awkwardly, to the music. He was so unsure of every step. I loved that about him, how he could be so confident with his men, but so fumbling, so awkward around me. Somehow I ended up leading the dance, guiding him in a smoother dance, the movement a pretense for me to keep holding him.

 _He even smells good_ , I thought.

Eventually the music ended and he stepped away, still holding my hand. “There. I think you came out of that relatively unscathed.”

I laughed. “Relatively.”

He bowed again. “I'll see you back at Skyhold, Inqui-” I arched an eyebrow, and he finished, “Lahria.”

I smiled. 


	9. The Western Approach

“Hawke and Alistair will meet you in the Western Approach.” Cullen pointed at the map.

“Isn’t that a desert?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.

“Basically,” answered Josephine. “It’s a wasteland full of old ruins. Lots of sand.”

My wrinkled nose turned into an outright grimace.

“We’ve already scouted the area and prepared the horses for travel.” Cullen continued. “We can leave as soon as you’re ready.”

“We?”

He grinned. “I’ll be coming with you.”

“Oh?” I tried to keep my tone neutral. “I didn’t think you were allowed to leave.”

“My men will be fine for a week. With the Champion of Kirkwall and Alistair involved in this, we decided it required a more… high-profile presence than usual.”

I shrugged. “Or you just want to keep me from killing dragons.”

 

\---

 

After two days’ ride, we finally arrived at the forward camp. I was already hot and dusty and uncomfortable and we had barely even started.

“Well,” said Varric. “That’s an awful lot of sand.”

“Ugh.” Cassandra rolled her eyes. “What would we do without your charming wit?”

Cullen seemed slightly startled at the Seeker’s comment and I laughed as the wind whipped my robes around my ankles.

We encountered our first rift almost immediately. Each of us swung from our steeds without preamble and readied our weapons. I heard Cullen shouting orders, but this was… the tenth? rift we had sealed. I was losing track. We all knew our places now. Solas stood beside me under the rift, casting barriers as I concentrated on disrupting it. Varric leapt out of reach, using the rocky terrain to his advantage, while Cassandra took the brunt of the attack. Within a matter of minutes, the demons were nothing but ectoplasm on the ground, the rift was sealed, and Varric and Cassandra were back to sniping at each other.

“You… that was…” Cullen was standing there, sword in hand, gaping.

“Not our first rodeo, Curly.” Varric placed Bianca in her holster. “You should keep up.”

Solas jabbed at some of the leftover goop, scooping up pieces of interest. I gave him a disgusted look. “Please tell me you’re going to wash your hands.”

“You sound like Vivienne when you say that,” he responded.

Cullen was still staring at me. “How often do you do this?”

“Often enough.”

“And every time you come out here, it’s like… like that?”

“Like what, Commander? Demons? Rifts?” Cassandra wiped her sword on the sand. “You’ve read our reports.” She cast a glance at Varric. “ _Some_ of them were exaggerated, but not all.”

I stepped to Cullen’s side and smiled up at him. “Come on, let’s go.”

 

\---

 

We encountered two more rifts that day, plus explored numerous caves, before settling down to camp.

“Alright, Varric.” Cullen said, stretching out his legs before the fire. After the sun went down, the desert sands turned cold. “Tell us a story.”

“No.” Cassandra barked without looking up. “Don’t get him started.”

“Oh, come on, Seeker.” Varric leaned toward her, waggling his brows. “I have some ideas for  _Swords and Shields_ I need to test out on an audience.”

The Seeker’s entire body went rigid as she stared at him. “And why would I be interested in that?”

Cullen had spent all day watching our small party with fascination, and he glanced between Cassandra and Varric like he was watching a sporting match.

“I suspect our Inquisitor chooses these two to accompany her on purpose,” Solas said, low behind Cullen and I. “For comic relief.”

“Where are you headed, Solas?” Asked Cullen.

The elf shrugged. “Did you not see those towers we passed earlier? I’m going to have a look.”

“Is that safe?” Cullen reached for the sword he had just unbuckled. “Maybe I should go with you.”

I swatted his hand away from his weapon. “He’ll be fine.”

Varric and Cassandra quickly retired, and it was just Cullen and I, listening to the warm pop and crackle of the fire.

“You seem to be dealing with these excursions a lot better,” he said. “You’ve learned to handle yourself in a fight.”

I gave a shaky laugh. “I’ve learned how to trust in Solas’ barriers. They never fail. Or, well, when they’re about to fail, I am ready with my own. If it weren’t for that…” I shudder. “We’ve met enemies that overpowered us. It turns out… I’m not very good at handling pain.”

Cullen laughed. “Is anyone?”

There was something in his voice as he said that. It made me scoot closer to him and place a hand on his arm. “How have you been?”

“Fine.”

“Cullen.” I ran a thumb over the leather of his armor, wondering if he could even feel it. “How are you, really?”

He sighed. “Some days are worse than others. The pain is always there, but I can usually manage.” He laughed, then. “Cole, though. Cole is a problem.”

I removed my hand, uncomfortable with how nice it was to touch him, even through the layers. “Cole? What do you mean?”

“He tries to  _help_.”

“Oh dear.”

“I’ve tried explaining it to him. He doesn’t seem to get past the physical pain I’m in. He keeps bringing me healing herbs and poultices.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s a waste of resources. To keep me supplied with painkillers day in and day out would drain our entire supply. I take a little, on the worst days.

“He means well.”

Cullen gives me a little half-grin. “His comments are interesting.”

 _Creators, Cole, what did you tell him_. “Oh?”

“Wait, let me make sure I get this right.” He squinted at the sky like it had the answers. “’Ordered chaos, glint and sharp. Man of metal, of mettle, make sense of me.’  And then… ‘Ma sulevin’eth.’ “

He mangled the pronunciation of the elven words, but I gasped anyway.

Cullen laughed. “I thought it was about me, until the Elvish.” He looked at me, saw my eyes wide. “Is it about you?”

“I’m certainly not a man of metal. Or a man of anything.”

“True. Do you know what the Elvish means?”

 _My certain safety_. A thought I had once, a fleeting feeling, when Cullen was near me. I glared at the fire and muttered under my breath, “I’m going to kill him.”

Cullen heard me anyway and answered, playful notes in his tone. “Does that mean you won’t tell me?”

I scowled. “It was a private thought. One he should not have heard.”

The timbre of Cullen’s voice turned warm in the dark. “And it was about me?”

I said nothing. I was worried he would ask me again, so I said instead, “How would you feel if he told me something personal about you? Your thoughts. Your feelings.”

“ ‘The tiny bottle makes him shake. Makes him less, and yet, and more.’ ” The way he was repeating it, it sounded worn, like he had been saying it to himself for days. “He said that to me once.”

“You shouldn’t take his comments to heart, Cullen.”

“But they are so right, so often. Less and yet more. He puts things into words that I don’t know how to say.”

“He’s always putting things into words that I don’t want to say.” I frown. “And then repeating them to other people.”

“Ma sulevin’eth,” he whispered, then turned to look at me. “Sure I can’t get you to tell me what it means?”

Part of me wanted to, just to see his response. That same part of me kept staring at his hands, wanting to hold them in mine.

“We should get some sleep.” I stood and stretched. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight,” he said, still watching the fire.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of LOVE Varric and Cassandra's interactions. Maybe because she's the only person who doesn't like him, and that makes me giggle.
> 
> (Edited this because of a line about Cullen's templar abilities no longer existing, which is incorrect. Lyrium is not required for templar abilities to work.)


	10. The Fade

 

I could hear Varric snoring in the tent beside mine, where I lay inches from Cassandra's even breath. And I could hear the soft footfalls of Solas' bare feet.

“Lethallan,” he whispered outside my tent. “Are you awake?”

I came out to join him by the dying fire. A few scouts, yawning, nodded their hellos.

“Come,” he placed a hand at my elbow, briefly, before pulling away. “I want to show you something.”

I followed him across the sand dunes and craggy outcroppings until we were at the ruins of a castle we had found earlier that day. With one eye on me to be sure I was paying attention, he placed a line of wards, setting elemental mines at the choke points. When I figured out what he was doing, I joined him, accepting his gentle instruction when I left portions of our defenses vulnerable.

When it was done, he settled on the ground and patted the sand beside him. “Lie down.”

My heart gave a flutter, growing more frantic as he himself lay back, one arm beneath his head, the other resting on his chest. He looked so soft in the silvery gloom.

_Mythal, save me._

I lay beside him, careful not to touch. The stars were a riot of glitter hanging just out of reach of my hand.

“Close your eyes.” His voice was so soft.

I closed them.

“Now sleep.”

A giggle escaped me before I could stop it. “That's not likely to happen.”

I could hear the warmth of his smile as he said, “I brought tea.” He sat up and took a cup from his bag, and poured something into it. He rubbed his fingers together along the base of the cup until it was warm, then handed it to me.

“Show-off.” I took a sip. “You hate tea.”

“But you don't.”

I sipped again.

“It's herbal, and will help you sleep. Nothing too potent, but enough to make sleeping in a strange place easier.”

 _And sleeping next to you?_ I thought. _Do you have a tea for that?_

Tea finished, I settled in beside him again. I was already getting drowsy. Relaxed. I let my arm fall beside his, close enough to feel his warmth.

“Try to sleep,” he said.

We lay in the dark, with the night sounds all around and the rift making everything silvery green. I could hear his breathing matching mine, steady and rich. I closed my eyes, falling asleep to the sweet, wistful thought... _I think his fingers are twined in mine._

 

\---

 

When awake, the castle was a terrifying testament to entropy's effects. In the fade, however, it was magnificent.

Time periods mingled together, with a war and a wedding happening simultaneously. A lord rode triumphantly, alight with banners, while his four-year-old son watched. In a blink, the son was a man, riding his own horse beneath his own banner.

“Lethallin,” I breathed.

He held out a hand to the scene in front of us, and everything slowed.

“This place has much history. Not all places are this chaotic. But here, you can make it out more clearly.”

“It's amazing.” I couldn't take my eyes off of everything. I spun in circles trying to grasp it all, as Solas held his hands out, keeping it still enough for me to see.

When it was over, and he had dropped his hands, he said, “Next time, I'll take you someplace simpler.”

“Next time?”

“Of course. But now, we need to wake up. The others will be worried if they awake to find their Herald missing. Cassandra especially.”

I beamed. “This was.... it was incredible, Lethallin. Thank you.”

He stepped toward me, smiling down into my face. “Now... Wake up.”

 

\---

 

When I opened my eyes, the sky was a watercolor pallet of amber and fire. The colors in the real world were so much more vibrant than in the fade, and for a minute, I was so stunned by the beauty of my own world, I didn't want to move.

“Lethallan.” Solas' sleepy voice whispered beside me. “Are you awake?” He gently shook my hand.

My hand, that he was definitely holding.

I gasped.

“Good morning.” His voice was so close. Our faces were _so close_.

I turned my head, resting my cheek against his shoulder, as light as I dared. “Good morning.” My heart was pounding. “Last time we did that... you kissed me.”

“If I remember correctly, it was you who did the kissing.”

A sloppy grin spread across my face. “Have you had enough time to think, then?”

He sat up, putting distance between us. “I'm still not sure.”

“Not sure that you want me, or that you want to deal with... everything else.”

Solas gathered his things, not looking at me. “I just don't think it's a good idea.”

_But you can take me out for midnight walks through history? You can dance with me at a ball? You can be by my side with your calm and your soft words and that longing in your eyes when you look at me?_

I stood up, walking away. “We should get back. I don't want to hear Varric's version of this if he wakes up before we get back.”

“Lethallan...” Solas called after me, but I pretended I didn't hear. 


	11. Ma sulevin’eth

 

In the morning, I noticed a smaller camp, and an Orlesian man in a mask bustling about. A mask. Out here in the desert.

He started talking about dragons, and I saw Cullen’s eyes go wide.

“You want us to bait a high dragon. On purpose.” Varric threw up his hands. “Please tell me we’re not doing this.”

“You aren’t.” Cullen glared at me. “No dragons. I forbid it.”

I laugh. “I think I outrank you, Commander.”

Solas was at my elbow with a gentle touch. “Lethallan-“

I jerked my arm way from him.  _Lethallan my ass_. “Fine. No dragons.” I turned and muttered under my breath, “I’ll come back with Iron Bull. He likes dragons.”

 

\---

 [[For plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/pJ-MbjbUx58?t=1m5s) starting at 1:05; pretend Stroud is Alistair lol]]

After we had seen the Wardens kill their own, had seen them raise demons to serve our enemy, after... the others rode ahead, but I spent much of the way back walking, leading my hart by his bridle. I wanted time.

Cullen stayed with me, walking ahead, keeping distance but staying close.  _He’s probably worried for my safety. Always worried for me_. I caught myself grinning for the first time since the wardens.

Everything was a wreck. The world was going mad.

I wanted him to know what he meant to me.

I sped up my pace and caught up with Cullen, who gave me a pleased smile. “Doing okay?”

“Ma sulevin’eth.” I spoke without meeting his eyes. “It means ‘my certain safety.’ It was something I felt when I looked at you, when I was near you, when I watched you train. How sure I was that I was safe with you.”

He was hiding the smallest smirk with the back of his hand, but said, “Then I must be doing my job, Inquisitor.”

“No. It’s more than that. It’s just something about you, makes me trust whatever you say. It’s not your soldiers, or your position. It’s you.” I meet his eyes then, and he steps towards me, reaches out a hand. The look in his eyes makes my spine shiver. _How would it feel to kiss you? All that power and concern in my hands, for a moment, existing only for me._

But I wasn't that brave.

I turn and vault onto my hart, kick my heels and leave him standing there, watching after me.


	12. Too Much to Ask

I stand outside the door to his office, heart pounding.  _Be brave_ , I tell myself. But I can’t. I turn and run down the steps.  
 _Coward_. I huff out a breath. What’s the worst that can happen? An awkward “I’m sorry if I led you to believe… but I don’t feel the same.” That’s not that bad.

 _Yes it is_ , a quiet voice says deep inside me. I kick a stone against the wall.

“He dreams of branches shaped like the marks on your face, holding him high.”  _Cole_.

I whirl on him. “Sometimes, people don’t need to know these things. You don’t have to say everything you hear in our heads.”

He flinches away from my anger. “You’re upset. I’m sorry I told him before. He was worried. He thought you didn’t see him. But you did. He needed to know he wasn’t alone. He needed something to think about, other than the blue glitter in the bottle.” Cole began rambling in earnest, then. “Branches, roots weaving around him. Her hair, like sunlight. Looking through books of ancient words with no hard consonants. All soft and fluid. Like her. What does it mean? What does  _she_  mean? Herald.  _Maker’s breath, her hips.”_

“Shut  _up_ , Cole!” My cheeks were burning. “People don’t want you telling others how they feel about them.”

_Besides, just because he likes my hips doesn’t mean he wants me._

“But he does,” says Cole. “He doesn’t like that he wants you, but he does.”

I snort. “Are you talking about Solas or Cullen now?”

“Both.”

“Don't help. Don't... make him be interested in me.” Especially not because he needs a distraction.

“I didn't. I can't. I wouldn't lie to him. Or you. Lying hurts worse, in the end.”

I look away from Cole and stare up the stairs at Cullen's door.

“He'll say yes,” the boy says softly.

I turn to shout at him again, but he's gone.

 

\---

 

It takes three more days of this, standing outside his door, before I finally go in.

“Can we talk? …. Alone?”

 

\---

[[Cut scene that goes with this part: [watch](http://youtu.be/OmuGJwyiQmk).]]

“I care for you,” I found myself saying. “In every sense of the word.” Cullen's eyes went soft, but I pushed on. “But I'm a mage. You've made your opinions on mages very clear. And... I just...” I fiddled with my sleeves. “Could you ever see as anything more than just another dangerous mage?”

“Yes,” he breathed, then straightened. “I mean, I do. I think of you. And... what I might say in this situation.”

“What's stopping you?”

“Besides the obvious? War, Inquisition, demons banging down our door?” He sighed. “I... I didn't think it was possible.”

“Not possible? That I might want you?”

“Yes.” He shook his head. “I don't know.”

I leaned toward him, “But I do.”

Every muscle in his face relaxed into a hazy joy as he came closer. “It seems too much to ask... but I want to.”

His breath on my lips, and then-

“Commander.”

 _This is the single most embarrassing moment of my life,_ I think, listening to the poor man try to fumble his way out of his Commander's wrath.

“If you need to-”

But then he is kissing me, too fast, too hard at first, then slowly, softer. He lingers at the end, then pulls away. “I'm sorry... that was, um. Really nice.”

“You're sorry?” I ask. _He doesn't like that he wants you,_ Cole had said _._ “You don't regret it?”

“No! I mean... no. Not at all.”

And he kisses me again.

 


	13. First

I'm walking across the main hall, pulling my gloves off, body aching from spending two weeks out in the Western Approach. Reclaimed a fort. Killed a dragon. Got rid of some darkspawn. It was two days' ride back to Skyhold and there's still sand in my boots.

“Tell him I said-” The door opens, and Leliana and Cullen are standing there.

I smile at him. _Commander_. A lazy grin spreads across his face.

Leliana clears her throat. “I'll handle it.” She takes the report from his hand and slips past us, giving me a wink as she goes.

In an instant, he is at my side, one hand on my neck, the other at my waist.

“Lahria,” he breathes. I feel myself glowing.

“Hello.”

“Welcome back.” He can't stop looking at me. I can't stop smiling. “I feel like... it's been ages.”

I step away, pull him towards my quarters. “Come on, let's go where there aren't a thousand eyes on us.”

His face turns red. “I, uh. To your... your bedroom?”

“Did you have someplace else in mind?”

“Well... no. I just...”

But we're at the door, and I'm opening it, leading him up the stairs. His ears are pink, and he keeps running his hand through his hair.

I sit on the bed and groan as I untie my boots, unfasten my robe. I almost forget Cullen's standing there. I just want it _off_.

He clears his throat. “I, uh. You're... um.”

“Are you alright?” I'm down to thin linen pants and a loose shirt. Not exactly underclothes, but less than he's ever seen me in.

He comes to sit beside me on the bed. “We... you left the day after our kiss.”

“I'm sorry. You know it wasn't intentional. We were scheduled to-”

He rests a hand on my arm. “I know. I just... I missed you.”

Warmth spreads through my chest and I slip an arm around him. His armor is so bulky, such a barrier. I've had no experience with armor. I want to take it off but I wouldn't even know where to begin.

He leans in and kisses me, soft and sweet, then pulls away. “Can I tell you something?”

“Only if you take some of this armor off,” I say, tugging at a piece of metal secured to his arm. Did it have a name? I'm sure every single piece of it had a name.

He flushes. “What?”

“I want to... well, hold you. It's hard with all this crap on you.”

His smile at that... I was melting.

“Right.” He tugs off his gloves, then unfastens some buckles and a piece of it comes off his arm, then he reaches for more.

“Can I help at all?” I ask, fascinated. “You'll have to tell me what to do. I have no idea what any of this is.”

He leans back on the bed and uses the other hand to point to his shoulder. “Under this piece here, there's a strap. Unbuckle it.” I step between his legs – his eyes go wide at this – and feel around his shoulder until I find it, then slip the strap through the buckle. He guides me to two more buckles and the other arm is free. I see the loops securing his feathery fluff in place, and I unhook them, letting it fall behind him. He watches my face as I do this. “Now here.” His voice is rough as he points behind his neck. “This one's tricky. Well, for me at least. It's a bit... it's wrapped up.” I tug the cloth free, unwinding it around him.

“Now for this,” he taps his chest, then points to his back. I reach around him, my arms twining his neck, to undo the strap at his back. He shyly presses a kiss into my shoulder, glancing up as if to check if it was alright.

“Now here,” he points lower, and I undo another strap near his waist.

“I had no idea you were so... strapped in.”

He laughs as the last buckle comes free, and I tug the chest piece off of him.

He sits on my bed, dressed in just a light shirt and leather pants.

“Cullen,” I breathe, a bit marveled at him. Besides the Winter Palace, I have never seen him out of his armor.

His cheeks are pink as he bends to unlace his boots. I kneel and help with the right one while he does the left, our fingers working side by side until they're both off.

Still kneeling there, I look up into his face. _You're so beautiful,_ I think, and run a hand through his hair. He takes my hand and lifts me up until I'm standing between his knees, his arms around my waist. My hands explore the shape of his shoulders, the feel of his chest beneath my hands. His breath catches.

“What did you want to tell me?” I ask.

“I... well. It's embarrassing.”

I grin. “I doubt it. You're just easily embarrassed.”

He looks away as my thumb strokes his collarbone, his neck, the curls behind his ear. He smiles. “You're distracting me.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Of course not.” He sighs and rests his face in the crook of my neck. I press close, holding him there. I can feel his lashes against my skin. “Do you know how old I am?” He asks.

“Old enough, I should think.”

He chuckles, a rumble in his chest. “Yes. Old enough. And yet...” He sighs. “ _Maker._ I just need to get it out.”

“What?”

“You were my first kiss.”

I jerk my head up. “What?”

“Well, there was some awkward fumbling with a girl when I was thirteen, but it hardly counted.”

“First.” I repeat. “Really?”

“Really.” He grins up at me. “I was so focused on my training, and then I was in the Circle with a hopeless crush, too focused on a girl I couldn't have to pursue anyone else. And then... well. And then everything fell apart. I was a wreck for far too long, and then... And then I was here.”

I run a hand through his hair. “Your first kiss. That explains why you were so bad at it.”

“What?” He pulls his head up. _The look on your face._

I laugh. “Oh, Cullen. No. You were fine.” And to prove it, I hook my hands behind his neck and kiss him. And kiss him again. And again.

I lean him back onto the bed, crawling to straddle his stomach. His breath, his face. I think it's too much for him.

“By first kiss,” he says. “I also of course mean... first everything else. I mean.” He rests his hands on my hips. “Maker's breath.”

“Am I going too fast for you?”

“Maybe.” He pushes me off of him so that we were laying side by side. “I want you. I just don't know what to do.”

“You're doing fine,” I say, smiling as I kiss him again.

“Can we maybe... maybe not. For now?”

“Not have sex?”

His entire face burns scarlet. “Um. Yes.”

“Of course.” I kiss him again, holding him close to me.

“I've gotten very good at wanting people I can't have,” he tells me. “I assumed you would be another hopeless daydream. I'm just... not used to being wanted in return.”

I tip my mouth close to his ear. “Oh Cullen,” I sigh, knowing exactly what I'm doing to him. “Trust me, I want you.”

I could see his pulse banging at his throat as I sigh and settle into his embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen is a virgin. I'll fight you on this. He so is.


	14. The Storm Coast

[[For plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/AoItLeZ_cLQ). Pretend the giant guy in the red coat is a petite elven mage girl. You can stop at 1:58]]

The Iron Bull was thundering through Skyhold so hard that even the walls seemed to quake with his fury and his grief. I held back. Nothing I could do or say right now would help him. Or me, for that matter. I was a fragile web of appearances, stone-faced and focused on moving, moving, moving. Feet on pavement. Step after step.

“His cracking laugh and her making jokes. ‘It’s a bow, not a staff.’ Bow nor staff saved her in the end.”

My spine went rigid.  _Fucking Cole._

“Get out of my head,” I snarled.

“S-Sorry, I-“ He reached out a hand to me. I didn’t want his  _help_.

I ran, breaking now, an avalanche of regret and sorrow and hating myself, hating that title – Inquisitor – making decisions, having blood on my hands. Tears danced in my eyes and I bit my lip so hard it bled. Pounding footsteps up the stairs, eyes down, ignore the stares.

Door. Quiet. Calm.

“Lethallin!” My voice broke in the middle, a ragged sob tearing through my chest. He spun around in time to catch me as I clung to his robes, my legs giving way. We sank to the floor together, his arms holding me tight and lowering me gently to the ground.

“What happened?”

“I killed them. The Chargers. I let them die. I-“ My fists, full of his shirt, were shaking. “Four good people or a boat with dozens on it, dozens I didn’t know, but- I thought..” I couldn’t speak anymore.

“It was a hard decision.” Solas rubbed my back, hand not used to the motion. “But you made the right choice.“

I thudded my fist against his chest. “No. There was no right choice. There wasn’t.”

“But-“

“I don’t need you to repeat what I’ve been telling myself the whole way home. I just… I don’t...”

His hand stilled on my back for a moment, then continued, slower now, purposeful. He shifted my body until it was comfortable, never loosening his hold or pulling away, and began humming, low and soft.

 _I know this song._  Nights in the Dales with my cousin on his lyre. The elderly Keeper’s voice rising and falling with the notes. It was a sad, beautiful song.

“Lath sulevin, lath araval ena,” Solas sang into my hair as I cried freely. When he reached the end of the song, he started it over. His voice washed over me, his warmth and his steadiness holding me together.

I started to fall asleep in the safety of his arms. I felt him shift and lift me up, holding me against him, walking out of the room. I wanted to protest, but I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want him to stop holding me. So I closed my eyes, rested my head against his chest, and felt his voice, his breath, his heartbeat.

 

\---

 

I woke up, armor gone, in my under dress, in his bed. My head was pounding, and my eyes were gritty and swollen. I sat up gingerly and saw him sitting in a chair by the bed, one knee pulled up to his chest.

“Good morning, Lethallan.”

“You didn’t have to give up your bed for me.”

He gave me a soft smile in response.

After a few moments, he said, “This is how I met you, you know.” He fingered the folds of fabric near my marked hand. “You slept for two days. We weren’t sure if you would wake up at all. And your mark kept spreading. I didn’t understand the magic, and there wasn’t much I could do but watch, and try to keep you from feeling any pain.”

“Thank you for doing that, for being there. Even if I didn’t’ know.”

He waved it away. “I still don’t fully understand the mark, and most days it seems like there isn’t much I can do, even now.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he hurried on. “Your role in this requires making very difficult decisions. We all know how much stress you’re under, but I don’t think I realized just how much until last night.” He picked at the fabric, eyes downcast. “But you can’t let people know how deeply you’re affected by these responsibilities. You have to appear confident, sure in your decisions. You have to keep their trust, their faith in you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling hot tears filling them.

Solas took my hand. “But not with me. You already have my trust and my confidence. If you need to doubt, to question, to fall apart, you can come to me.” He gave my hand a squeeze. “I’m sure you could go to the others, too. Varric. Josephine. Cullen. They are good, strong people with the temperament to be able to handle another’s burdens. You are not alone in this.”

A tear slipped down my cheek and I hastily wiped it away.

“This much, at least, I can do for you.”

“Thank you.” I drew my thumb over his knuckles. “You help me more than you know, Lethallin.”

I looked away from our hands and caught him with an expression on his face I couldn’t name, mouth parted, ready to speak. He quickly returned to his normal calm. “I’ll make you some tea.”

\---

The next morning, before the sun was up, I met Cullen for breakfast. We didn't have a standing arrangement, but since neither of us ever seemed to get a full night's sleep, we met here often enough.

He carefully wasn't meeting my eyes, though I could see in his tense shoulders that he knew I was there. I sat beside him at the long table and scooped up a bite of eggs.

“I looked for you yesterday.” His voice was tight. “I heard what happened on the Storm Coast. I knew it would be hard for you. I looked for you for an hour before someone told me they saw Solas carrying you to your _bedroom_.” He said the last word with an edge and turned to me. “Is there something I should know?”

“Are you asking me if I slept with Solas?”

“What? No.” He shook his head. “I'm asking why you didn't come to me.” There was tenderness there in his voice, and worry. I slipped my fingers into his. “Remember at Haven, when I caught you sneaking into camp in the middle of the night?”

“When you nearly took off my head for taking a walk?”

He grinned, then got serious again. “Our talk. I know how deeply these things effect you. I guess I assumed you would come to me, not someone else.” His thumb ran over mine and he gave my hand a squeeze. “Why didn't you come to me?”

 _I needed someone else_. I wince away from that thought. “When we talked at Haven, you... It was very helpful, but it was all about, I don't know. Duty and obligation and 'doing the right thing.' It was what I needed to hear then, but... I just needed to mourn the death of people I considered friends, who died by my hand. I didn't want to hear that it was right. I just-”

“You don't think I can understand that?” He pulled his hand away. “Lahria, in the Circle... there were _kids_ there, Lahria, who grew up there. I saw them every day. I watched them grow up. And some of them-” He closed his eyes. “Some of them didn't pass their Harrowing. And I had to cut them down.”

He swallowed hard. I didn't want to tell him it wasn't the same, that these people weren't monsters. There was no reason the Chargers needed to die except that the Inquisition needed an alliance with the Qunari. They didn't deserve to die.

“I know that,” I spoke carefully, tip-toeing over his pain. _How to explain this in a way that won't hurt him?_ “I was in pain, and I wasn't thinking clearly. I ran to someone, a friend, who had offered me comfort before. It was instinct.”

Cullen looked hurt anyway, eyes dropping to his plate. After a moment, his voice was quiet. “I guess I just want to be the person you run to on instinct.” He gave me a sad, small smile. “I was worried for you, and had to pretend to focus on tactics and training recruits while I kept asking myself why you weren't relying on me. I thought of a thousand reasons. I'm a templar. I'm an addict. I never know what to say. I-”

“Cullen, no.” I wrap an arm around his, scoot my chair closer. I want to touch him, to make the words stop. “It wasn't any of that.”

“Is it?” He swallowed and I saw on his face the same cracked confidence and insecurity I had seen when he kissed me, when he wasn't sure I still wanted him after showing me his weakness. _You're so strong_ , I wanted to say. _You're a shield for me against the world. You keep me safe. You keep me standing._ Instead I rested my forehead on his shoulder. “Everyone expects so much from you,” he continued. “I just want to be your safe place to land.”

“You are.”

He rested his head on mine and spoke into my hair. “I want to be what you need, Lahria. Please. Let me-” His voice cracked. “Let me take care of you sometimes, okay? I need that.”

“You need to take care of me?” I asked, a little playful, but his voice remained serious.

“Yes. I do.” He pressed a kiss into the part of my hair. “Next time, please come to me.”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”


	15. Perfect

“There is a hole in your roof.” I've said it three times now. “What do you do when it snows?”

Cullen shrugs and my head bobs on his shoulder. “I threw a tarp up there once when it rained.”

“Why don't you get someone to repair it?”

He leans over me, buries his face in my neck. “I don’t sleep all that much. It doesn’t bother me.” He trails kisses across my collarbone, stopping at the neckline of my shirt. I squirm, tugging my shirt down to give him access, but he doesn’t go farther.

“I wouldn’t sleep much either if there were birds nesting over my bed.”

He laughs and I can feel the force of it all along my body.

“If it bothers you so much, we can go to your room instead.” He sits up, extends a hand to help me off the bed. _Always such a gentleman_. A breeze chills every place his lips had been.

I take his hand, using it to pull myself right against him and kiss him slowly on the mouth. His face when I pull away is glowing. I love the simplicity of his affection. He is so easy to make happy. Everything I do makes him smile.

“Should we really parade ourselves across the keep like that?”

“I think everyone already knows we’re involved,” he grins. “The men have been giving me grief ever since we were interrupted during our first kiss.”

“Sorry.” I rub my nose along the stubble on his chin. “That’s got to be… hard.”

“They get extra drills for every comment I overhear. If it’s hard for anyone, it’s them.”

He holds me at arm’s length. “So? To your quarters?”

I shy away from the idea, knowing we’ll walk right through Solas’ room to get to mine. How could I convince him to take the long way? Afternoon stroll? No. And why should I hide our relationship? It’s not as if Solas doesn’t already know.

But...

_“Lethallan.” He had said, leaning against the frame of his door. “Sleep well?”_

_The door to the main hall shuts as Cullen leaves, sun on his shoulders. I can feel my face burning. “Yes. I did.”_

_The look on his face._

_It wasn’t hurt, or jealousy. It was as if he’d slammed the door to expressing anything to me. He bowed slightly with his head and walked away._

“What’s wrong?” Cullen must have seen something in my expression. His hand trails through my hair, wrapping a curl around his fingertip before letting it go. His soft touch makes me shiver, and when his eyes are on me, so warm, expression gentle.

_You’re too good to me._

I kiss him, arms holding our bodies together, trying to be what he deserves. “Cullen,” I whisper against his mouth, my breath whistling around his teeth. “You’re … you’re just so _perfect_.”

He laughs at that, a harsh bark, shoulders going hard under my hands. “No I’m not.”

_Creators_ , I curse myself. _Wrong thing to say_. “I just meant...” I can see the insecurities running through his head, the running list he keeps of every way he’s failing. “You’re wonderful.” My words sound small.

He gives a light snort through his nose and his self-depreciating grin, a twitch of his scar. He doesn’t believe me. “This,” I say, pressing closer, kissing him slowly, trying to make his body unclench. “ _This_ is perfect.”

Cullen smiles into another kiss. _Right thing to say_. It’s all I can do not to sigh with relief. _Someday_ , I think, _I’ll get you to believe me_.

“Now,” he says, giving me a playful grin, still not back to normal in my arms, but getting there. “Quarters? Or no? Make up your mind.”

_Solas had his chance_. _I won’t let him make me feel guilty for being with you. I’m proud to be yours. You deserve someone to be proud of you._

I take his hand, so much larger than mine. “Let’s go.”

 

\---

 

Cullen holds the door open for me and I step into the keep. My heart is pounding. _I will not feel guilty for being happy_. I keep repeating it, but it doesn’t seem to stick.

Solas is sitting on his couch, ankle resting on his knee, holding a book in one hand. He doesn’t lower it as he sees me, dark grey eyes tracking me over the spine as I cross the room.

“Afternoon,” Cullen gives him a nod, but the elf doesn’t react. I can feel him watching me and I try not to look.

I yank the door open so hard it bangs against the wall.

“Careful,” Cullen mutters low in my ear. “You almost took my hand off.”

“Sorry.”

It’s all I can do to keep myself from running to my room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But no really the hole in Cullen's roof B O T H E R S M E. His room is a neglected RUIN how does he sleep there!?


	16. Slow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Here there be smut

We kiss and hold each other, and I finally got his shirt off tonight, but when I reach for the buttons on my top, Cullen looks terrified, so I pull my hands away.

_Slow is good_ , I tell myself, but a sarcastic voice in me replies.

_Slow is frustrating._

He wraps his arms around me and presses me down into the sheets, one hand staying chastely at my waist as I slip my tongue into his mouth. He lets out the smallest sound.

_This is going to kill me._

I shift, angling my hip up, sliding one leg between his.

The small sound comes again, louder.

“Maker,” he whispers, eyes shut. “What are you doing?”

I want to bite him. Does he need me to spell it out?

I bring my knee up, feeling him hard against my thigh. I move slow, seeing his brows crease and his mouth pop open, wordless. I tug his face down to mine and kiss him hard.

Last night, when my hands reached for his belt, he pulled me away. _Not ready for that, then. So what about…_

I hook a finger around a belt loop on the side and tug his hips down into mine.

A muffled groan from him and he collapses onto his elbows on either side of my head. His body trembles as he moves his hips slowly, _slowly,_ against mine.

I'm worried he'll startle like a deer in the woods if I try for more, so I kiss him, keeping one hand on his hip as he makes another careful, tentative thrust against me.

He kisses down my neck, over the sensitive skin of my throat. My hips arch up of their own accord.

This time, when he slowly grinds against me, the solid tip of him _connects_. I let out a sweet, high gasp.

Cullen's entire body gives a violent shudder and he squeezes his eyes tight, gritting his teeth against a groan.

" _Shit_ ," he whispers.

_Did he just...?_

His arms are quaking as he rolls off me, covering his face with his hands.

I risk a quick glance down. _Surely he didn't_... but there, visible even through the leather, is a spreading wet patch.

Oh, _Commander_.

Fire fills me, starting low and spreading. I want to climb on top of him, spread my hands across his chest and take him _hard_.

"I've gotta go." He leaps off my bed, stopping only to scoop up his shirt from the foot of it.

"Cullen, stop!" I grab for his arm but he deftly blocks my grasp, moving fast.

He turns by the door to face me. "Mortified" doesn't begin to describe it.

"Cullen!" I scramble after him but he runs, slamming the door behind him. 


	17. Better

Cullen avoided me for a solid day and a half. Skyhold isn’t that large, and it was honestly impressive how he managed it. He was usually busy, and sometimes just flat-out hiding. Where was he going? The dungeon? (No. He wasn’t. _I checked_.) I suspected he made up patrols just to avoid me.

Eventually, though, I managed to get him alone.

I slipped into his office and locked the door.

“Cullen.” I made my voice as deep, as breathy as I could manage without sounding ridiculous. “There you are.”

He didn’t meet my eyes. “Sorry, I had… there was a lot to do.”

I’m not sure if I could say that I knew my Commander better than anyone in Skyhold, but I certainly knew him well enough to know what he needed right now. _All that self-doubt and insecurity._ I knew he’d spent our day and a half apart going beating himself up about what happened. I knew that talking about it would make it worse. Cullen’s not very good with words, even if they’re mine. Telling him how I felt, how knowing what I did to him made me want him more, not less, was just going to make him burn pink and run away. The man didn’t need to be told.

He needed to be shown.

I stepped to the center of the room, desk between us.

“Cullen.” He still wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were on the papers on his desk, pretending to read them.

So I put one boot on the desk and hoisted myself on it.

“Maker, what are you doing?” _The last time he said those words_ … I smirked.

“Getting your attention.” I stepped across his papers, closer to him.

“You’re going to fall.” His hands went to my waist automatically. _So protective_. I slipped my body into his embrace, arms around his neck.

“I’m taller than you,” I smiled. “I like it.”

In one motion, he knocked my knees from under me and scooped me into his arms. He looked so damn proud of himself.

“Show-off.” I nipped at his nose. “Ruining my fun.”

“You don’t like this?”

I punched the sheet of metal over his chest. “No.”

He didn’t come back quickly with a line or a sweet look. _Still awkward_. I slipped a hand under the armor on his arm and began unbuckling it.

“Lahria-“

“Regretting you taught me how to do this?” I tugged at the leather straps. “I don’t think it’s necessary for you to wear _all_ of this _every single day_.”

Cullen set me on the floor, put distance between us. “I make my men wear full armor every day. I can’t have them do that, and then wear whatever I want.” He readjusted the strap I had loosened, keeping his armor on.

“I was hoping I could get you alone.” I leaned back against the desk, tilted my face up. “You left right when things were getting good.”

He blushed. I never realized how much I loved making a man blush until I met Cullen.

I put my arms around him, despite the armor, and tilted my face up for a kiss. “Kiss me,” I said, when he didn’t.

He gave me the lightest of kisses and I pressed against him, making it deeper.

Still, he pulled away.

I ruffled the fluff on his shoulders. “Does this have a name?” I asked.

“What?” He looked at my hands, digging into the feathers. He laughed. “Are you asking me if I named my pauldrons?”

“Pauldrons?” I ruffled them again. “I’ve just been thinking of it as fluff. That you just… wear for fun.”

“It’s _warm_.” He was laughing, still. “We’re up here atop a snowy mountain. I need all the warmth I can get.”

_I know how to keep you warm_. I didn’t say it. He kept shying away from my advances, I didn’t want to make him run again. “Maybe I should get some fluff.”

“ _Pauldrons_.”

“Do they shed?”

“Maker’s breath,” he laughed. “If they offend you so much, I don’t have to wear them.”

“No!” I fluff up his _pauldrons_ once more for good measure. “I like them”

He was smiling down at me, eyes crinkling. I hoisted myself, sitting on the edge of his desk, kicking my crossed legs.

I bit my lip. “Kiss me.”

He did, smiling against my mouth until the kisses became more. Then I felt him start to pull away. Deftly I unhooked his feather-topped cape and tugged it away.

“What are you-“

I wrapped it around me like a queen’s fur cape and stood on the desk again. “How do I look?”

“Ridiculous.” He tried to knock my knees out from under me, pull me down, but I was ready for it. I stepped back, knocking some papers to the floor.

“Nope.” I danced with the cape, which fell to my ankles, short as I was. “That won’t work twice. You’ll have to-“ One of the leather binders used to hold reports slid out from under my foot and I lost my balance, arms pinwheeling, trying to fall forward, not back.

“Lahria!” Cullen lunged for me as I fell forward, elbows landing hard against his shoulders, sagging against him, knees hitting the desk.

“Ow,” I mumbled.

His face went hard. “I will not have you surviving darkspawn, dragons, and whatever else, only to have you brain yourself on my desk. You need to be more careful.”

My hands tangled in the curls at the back of his neck, his arms wrapped tight around me. “I will,” I said. “Be more careful.”

“I mean it.” He was using his Commander voice, rumbling in his chest. “You have to-“

I kissed him, a small whimper escaping my lips as bent over him, hair falling against his face. He still held me tight in his grip even though I was no longer falling.

_Oh, I was still falling._

His chest plate bumped my knee and I winced. “Ow.”

“Are you alright?” He looked down at my knee, the legging ripped, a light scrape, angry red. “Lahria, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing.” I tugged my robe over my knees. “I’ve had worse.”

“Come on.” He helped me to the ground. My knees burned. “Can you make it up the ladder?”

 

\---

 

I felt like I was three years old, sitting on his bed, with him kneeling on the ground, cleaning my scrape.

“It’s really not a big deal,” I said for the fiftieth time. “Look!” I rolled up my sleeve, where there were two jagged still-healing scars digging into my arm. “I’ve had worse.”

He seemed taken aback at the scars. “When did that happen?”

“Weeks ago. Storm coast. Bear.”

“A bear!?”

“I’ve fought a dragon, Cullen. _Dra-gon_. Two actually. I’m not as fragile as you think.”

He ran a hand over the scars. “But you are. You shouldn’t be fighting bears. Or dragons. You should be-“

“I _should be_ doing exactly what I’ve been doing. Probably more so. I spend too much time in Skyhold.”

Cullen looked at my knee, dark pink, a bruise already forming. “I hate it when you leave. I can’t stop thinking about what you’re facing. Without me.”

“You’ll notice a distinct lack of other scars. The bear was a surprise. The others usually do a great job keeping me safe, or keeping magical barriers up. I’m not in as much danger as it sounds.”

His warm, brown eyes met mine, then. “Maybe you and I should train, some. I can teach you-“

“Cullen.” I laughed. “What? Teach me to use a shield?” I waved my fingers in front of my face, purple light sparking between my fingers. “I don’t need a shield.”

The look of fascination on Cullen’s face reminded me that he’d never really seen me use magic outside of sealing breaches, or, well, the few times we’d been in the field together. It was never up close, never this flashy.

I let the sparks die out and conjured a brighter light instead and focused. _Not sure if this will even work, but-_

Cullen stood up, gasping as all the buckles on his armor undid at once.

I grinned at him, standing there in his soft shirt and leather pants.

“That’s better.”

“That was-“ he gaped at the armor on the floor, then at me. “What was that?”

“Something I didn’t know I could do. At least not for fine details like that.”

He was so impressed, eyes shining. “What else can you do?”

I held out a hand to him, tugged him toward me, on top of me. “Let’s find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol this chapter was a bit of a mess of self-indulgent fluff and silliness. whoops.


	18. Week Before

[[Relevant cut scene: [watch](http://youtu.be/7bEsJHNpukc)]]

Cullen and I stepped out of the war room, Leliana’s quiet steps behind us.

“Inquisitor,” Solas bowed his head to me quickly, all his movements agitated. “When are we going to Adamant? We must stop the Wardens from this insane plan.”

“I told you we would stop them. Together. I told you-“ I began, but he cut me off.

“It’s been over a month, lethallan.” He shakes his head. “ _When_ are we going?”

Cullen answered him. “The Inquisitor and I were just discussing it. Josephine has negotiated with one of her contacts for the use of siege equipment, which is in the process of getting there, and my men are moving into position. It takes time to arrange for a strong enough force to take down a fortress.”

Solas shifts his weight from foot to foot. “I’m sorry. I just-“

I put a hand on his arm. “I know. We should be ready within the week. Right, Cullen?”

Cullen nodded. “Correct.”

“Thank you,” Solas said. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”

My hand was still on Solas’ arm, thumb rubbing over the fabric. I could feel Cullen’s eyes on me, and I let go.

“You’ll be coming with us.” I crossed my arms, feeling awkward. “Right?”

“Right.” He nodded to me, then to Cullen. “Thank you.” He walked away.

At the edge of my vision, I saw Cullen, brow furrowed, eyes on me.

 

\---

 

"Are you even listening to me?" Dorian asked, waving a hand in front of my face. 

I blinked and shook myself. "Sorry."

He looked down off the railing at Solas, sitting at his desk with three different books, reading a little from each of them.

"So you like them skinny, bald, and boring.” Dorian said. “Good to know.”

“I don't – I mean...”

“Relax. It's obvious, the way you look at him when you think no one notices, or how you spend so much time in his room.”

“We're friends.”

“No, Lahria. _We're_ friends. You don't come sit in my chair and sigh wistfully at my books when I'm not here.” My face was burning pink beneath my freckles. “Does Cullen know?”

Now my face was red, not pink. “I... don't think so.”

“The two of you seem... close. Unless I'm reading something wrong.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Solas and I had a connection, and... a kiss... before. It's all kind of a mess.” I dug my fingers into my hair.

“Sounds like it.” He eased his weight on the bannister and looked at me. “You're with Cullen, but you want the elf. So leave Cullen. Be with Solas.”

“I don't want to leave Cullen. I just...”

“You want them both.”

I winced. “Is that so terrible?”

“No. It happens.”

We both stared at Solas at his desk, writing.

“He can't hear us, can he?”

“I think he tunes everything out when he's that intense into his books. I've had some fairly filthy conversations up here and he hasn't even blinked.”

I laughed.

“But really, though. Have you tried asking them? If you can have them both?”

I bit my lip. _Was that an option?_ “I never... thought I could.”

 _I just don't think it's a good idea,_ Solas had said. I turn away from the railing. “It's irrelevant anyway. Solas isn't interested.”

Dorian looked at me, then over the railing. “That's not the vibe I've been getting.” A flicker in my chest. I look at Dorian and he laughs. “You look so damned _hopeful_. If you’re trying to fool yourself into thinking you don’t want the poor bastard, you’d better keep stuff like that off your face. You’re gonna give him ideas.”

I try to wipe the expression from my face, but Dorian’s laughter tells me I’m not succeeding.

“Work on it, Inquisitor. Maybe in front of a mirror. For hours.” He snickers again and I punch his arm and walk away.


	19. Here Lies the Abyss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another big plot point. Prepare for all the cutscenes.

[[For plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/lpC0oBCUZ0o)]]

There were demons everywhere. People dying. I hadn’t seen this much chaos in a while. It was making me shake.

Solas cast a barrier around us and stepped so I had to look him in the eyes. “Lethallan. Breathe.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Inquisitor!” I hear Cullen shout behind me, shouting orders to me as he does to the other. _Thank the Creators for you both_ , I think. _How would I ever do this without your strength?_

“Hawke and Alistair are already on the battlements. They’ll meet you there.” Cullen shouted over the noise. His eyes remained fixed on me. “Stay safe, Inquisitor.”

I pulled the staff from my back. “Take care of our men, Commander. I’ll be fine.”

The look in his eyes told me he strongly doubted that.

 

\---

[[For plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/xSfaTbBAtHU?t=11m) from 11:00-13:03]]

We tried to save as many as we could. Wardens, our own soldiers. We even gave Clarel a chance, one that she took too late.

And then there was a dragon.

I lifted my hand to seal the rift, but Alistair shouted. “Run!”

We ran, dodging fire, fighting demons.

Solas was always at my side, keeping our barriers strong.

The dragon landed, shaking the ground beneath our feet. It crawled toward us, baring its teeth.

I saw it all through the undulating, effervescent magic I had cast to keep us safe. I saw Solas’ hands moving, preparing another, should mine fall.

A burst of light from Clarel and the dragon fell, claws scraping. The ground crumbled beneath our feet.

“Alistair!” I grabbed his wrist, tried to pull him up, but the stones were falling.

We were falling.

I remember screaming, violent green light, and falling, falling _falling_.

 

\---

 [[For plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/G-vM-_eMlDY), stop at 4:14]]

Solas was having the time of his fucking _life_.

Cole was not. Varric was not.

 _I_ was not.

Varric took Cole’s hand, telling him stupid jokes that Cole never seemed to understand, but as long as Cole was trying to puzzle them out, he wasn’t about to cry, losing his mind.

“Solas!” I snapped. “I know you’re having fun, but do you have any useful information?”

“Apologies. It’s just, to be-“

“I _know_.” I glared at him. “How about we focus on getting out of here.” I widened my eyes, leaned my head to where Cole and Varric were walking.

“Kid. Tell me, what is a sea monster’s favorite food?”

Cole kept squeezing his fingers, as if checking that they were still there. “Other monsters?”

“Fish and ships!” Varric laughed. It was too forced, but Cole didn’t noticed.

“That makes sense. Although I think the monsters want the people, not the ships.”

“No. It’s… nevermind.”

“I didn’t think you cared for Cole,” said Solas.

“’Annoyed by’ and ‘want to see confronted with his worst nightmare’ are completed differently things.”

We were moving forward, slowly, sticking to a tight group. Even though we hadn’t faced anything truly terrifying yet, Alistair and Hawke both had their swords out, and Varric kept Bianca close.

I suppose the Fade was terrifying enough on its own.

 

\---

 [[[blerg ](http://youtu.be/cO3vJYWf7lE?t=3m27s)if you must watch it. super not that important to this fic]]

I didn’t trust anything that had any power over my lost memories.

“It’s trying to help,” said Solas, disapproving of my anger.

“How would she be able to return my memories, unless she had some hand in removing them?”

He started to explain, but I didn’t want to hear it.

“What room has no walls?” asked Varric.

Cole began mumbling nonsense. “She was chained in the nothing, to the nothing, open. Eyes open – hers and theirs.”

“A mushroom,” Varric finished.

Cole frowned. “A mushroom isn’t a room. It wouldn’t like rooms.”

“Your jokes are getting worse, Varric,” said Hawke, swiping her bangs out of her eyes. “Can’t you distract the kid with something else?”

But then a booming voice taunted us with jokes of its own.

 

\---

 [[[previous video](http://youtu.be/G-vM-_eMlDY?t=4m16s), at 4:16-4:26]]

“Dirth ma, Harellan. Ma banal emasalim mar Solas ema mar dir.”

I only made out half of that, distracted as I was, but the part I understood made me jerk my head towards Solas.

“What did he just-“

I felt a demon’s claws at my neck.

“Lahria!” Solas shouted, whirling his staff in my direction. I ducked just in time, spun, still squatting on the ground, and fired some shots of my own.

As the demon went down, I heard Solas mutter, “Banal nadas.” _Nothing is inevitable._

It reminded me of one of Varric’s comments on a joke from earlier – “Nothing is inevitable, except for death.”

I looked at Solas, confusion likely evident, because he shrugged, brows creased. “I didn’t ask you about what he said to you. Kindly do the same for me.”

My cheeks warmed, out of shame for my nosiness and for what the Nightmare had said about me.

_“Inquisitor,” its dark, silky voice had hissed around me. “So many choices. Who lives and who dies. Which of your friends to feed to the beast next. So much blood on your hands.”_

_“It’s just trying to rattle you,” whispered Solas. “Ignore it.”_

_“Yes, Inquisitor. Ignore me. You ignore a lot of things these days, don’t you? How long will that last, I wonder?”_

 

\---

 [[there is a graveyard with a tombstone for each person, listing their greatest fear. I couldn't find a video.]]

We reached the graveyard at the end of the bog and I hissed every curse I knew.

“Don’t look at the others’,” Varric said, harsher than I’ve ever heard him. “It’s not our right to know.”

But I had already seen, and if I hadn’t, I would’ve heard Cole, happy to read them out loud, read our responses in our minds.

“You won’t,” Cole said, touching Solas’ elbow. “She won’t let you.”

“Leave it alone, Cole.”

“If she won’t, then I won’t.”

Solas sighed. “It’s alright, Cole.”

I wasn’t sure if it would be worse to try and comfort him, or pretend I hadn’t seen. _Dying alone._

“Cole,” Varric said. “If you’re going to read any of them, read your own.”

“I already know my own.”

“Don’t you already know all of them?” Varric asked.

“Yes.”

“Let’s move on,” I said, my voice breaking the trance the graveyard had on us. I had seen too many. My eyes had skipped away as soon as they realized what the gravestones were, but everywhere I looked, there were more.

I had seen Cullen’s. _Not being enough; finally breaking._

_I didn’t want to know that._

 

\---

 

We burst from the rift, Hawke and I, to Varric’s eyes scanning until he found her, to the Warden’s questions about Alistair, to Cullen, holding me with his eyes, clenching his jaw so tight his lips were white around the edges.

And Solas standing steady at my side, facing them all with me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize Cullen didn't have a tombstone, but he should have. I think I got his fear correct. If it's not clear... it's not just "not being enough." It directly relates to what happened to him at the Circle, and at Kirkwall. He's afraid that he won't be enough to withstand those things happening again, that the demons will finally break him, that he will finally buckle under the pressure because he isn't enough.


	20. After

The ride back to Skyhold was somber, except for Varric’s chatter. He was practically radiating relief.

Cullen never left my side, my shield against the world. He rode so close, I worried our mounts would crash into each other. He didn’t say a word, still held his body rigid, but he was not letting me out of his sight.

He stood guard outside my tent as well, until I ordered him to come in and get some rest.

The moment I had secured the clasps on our tent’s entrance, he had gathered me in his arms, holding me tight and kissing me hard.

“Cullen, wait.” I pushed until I made a space between us. “I’m exhausted.”

“I know. I don’t want anything.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Except to never see you disappear like that again.”

“Cullen…”

“Lie down. Please.” He lowered me to my cot on the floor, bundled the blanket around me. “Sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

“There are at least a dozen men out there _keeping watch_.” My voice was groggy. “Sleep with me.”

“I don’t think I could if I tried.”

He rarely ever slept with me. I’m not sure if he ever actually did. Some nights I’d fall asleep in his arms, but I always woke up alone.

“Please, just…” I was too tired to have this conversation. “Lay down. At least pretend to sleep.”

He held me close, curling his body around mine, tucking me into his strength.

“I can do that.” The way he said it, it felt like he was saying, _I can be that, at least, for you._

A cold chord struck inside me, remembering. _Not being enough_.

I was too tired, muscles aching, brain craving sleep, to stop myself from saying, “You’re more than enough.”

“What do you mean?” He asked in my ear.

“You’re strong enough. Good enough. Mine enough. I trust in you, whatever comes. You are exactly what I need, what you need to be.”

My words were clumsy, slurring together. “You’re perfect.”

I felt him still, then run a thumb over my cheek. “It means a lot that you feel that way.”

_But you don’t believe me._

“It’s true.” A sleepy protest.

He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Go to sleep, Lahria.”

 _It’s true_ , I want to say, but I’m already slipping into sleep.

 

\---

 

When I dream, I’m in the fade, green haze over everything, and I’m screaming.

_I never want to be here again._

“Lethallan.” Solas puts an arm around me, holding me from behind. “Shh, lethallan. Lahria. You’re not there.”

I open my eyes. Green everywhere. “This is the fade.” My voice is shaky.

“Not that fade. Not there. Look.”

It’s then I notice the green is grass, trees, a hill, wind blowing through the weeds and wildflowers. We’re standing on the outskirts of the forest, in a meadow before a mountain.

“But-“

“You were starting to have a nightmare,” Solas’ voice is right behind my ear. He hasn’t let go. “I pulled you from there, to here. I can’t stop you from dreaming, but I can redirect you.”

He pulls away and I turn around to face him.

“I hope this is alright.” He isn’t meeting my eyes. “You were upset after the last time.”

“I think you know _this_ ,” I gesture around us, “wasn’t why I was upset.”

He gives a slow nod, then takes a step back. “I’m unsure if you’re able to remain here on your own. Unless you want to wake up, I’ll have to stay here with you, to keep you from slipping into a nightmare.” He again says, “I hope that’s alright.”

I sigh and sit on the grass. “It’s fine, Solas. Sit.”

He sits, legs crossed, thin hands resting on his knees.

“Do you want to talk?” He asks.

 _About what?_ I sit in silence, twirling the grass between my fingers. There are no insects, here in the Fade. It’s lovely.

“I saw your tombstone,” he says, finally. “I was going to pretend I didn’t, but that seemed unfair.”

 _Making the wrong choice_ , it had said. I knew what it meant. I had thought it often enough, when I told Solas he couldn’t come with me, when I convinced Cullen to remain at Skyhold. _I don’t want either of you to be my next Chargers._

“Thank you for telling me,” I say, then clear my throat. “I saw yours.”

“I thought as much.” A pause, then, “And Cullen’s?”

I nod.

“Does he know?”

“No. We haven’t talked much since. I’ve been too tired.”

“Ah.” Solas stretches out his legs, leans back in the grass.

I feel like there’s an entire world of things we aren’t saying, stretching between us in the lazy grass. There are so many things I want to ask. My mind whirls with wondering it all. _Does he still think of me?_

“Are there spirits here?” I ask.

“Perhaps. We could look for them, if you like. I chose a place I knew would be secluded, safe. I didn’t know what state you’d be in.”

“Thank you.” I lay beside him, a good two feet away, and turn on my side, curling to face him. He turns to me as well. Our bodies make two question marks in the grass. “You’re always taking care of me, always so… _aware_ of exactly what I need.”

He offers me a small, tentative smile. “I pay attention.”

“Thank you, then, for paying attention, lethallin.”

I see him close his eyes, keep his lashes down as he looks away. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been… I was hurt. And confused.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Again he gave a sad smile. “No more than I deserved.”

“Solas-“

He puts up a hand. “I was unfair to you, offering you affection and then snatching it away with no explanation.” He settles his hand in the grass between us. “You weren’t the only one who was confused.”

Silence stretches between us, but it isn’t awkward this time. It feels nice, peaceful, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

Eventually, Solas says , “You could wake up now. It’s been long enough.”

“Already?”

“Time moves differently in the fade.”

I slowly move a hand out from my body, let the back of my fingers rest against the back of his. “I don’t want to wake up.”

Solas pulls his hand away and sits up. “Your Commander will be waiting.”

“Solas-“

He shakes his head. “It’s alright. Please, don’t feel guilty on my account. I would hate to bring you suffering of any sort.”

I sit up, too, and kneel on the grass, facing him. “Thank you again. For this, for everything.”

“If you start to have nightmares again, I’ll pull you here again.” He stares out at the mountains. “We should practice your dreaming. You could probably do this on your own, without assistance. You just need to learn how.”

 _I don’t want to do this on my own_. “Maybe.”

“A request, before you go?”

“Yes?”

He turns to face me, ocean grey eyes I haven’t had the chance to really see in a long time. My heart twists.

“Call me lethallin again.”

I smile, unable to stop. “Lethallin.”

He closes his eyes, smile on his face like melting snow. “That’s all I need.”

I open my mouth to say more, but I am suddenly awake, Cullen’s strong arms around me, sunlight bright against the tent.

“Good morning.” Cullen’s deep, rich voice in my ear.

I roll, spinning in his arms, and wrap mine around him tight. “Cullen.”

“What’s wrong?”

I press my face into his chest. _I can’t tell you_ _. Not yet._

He holds me, presses kisses to my hair. He doesn’t ask again.

 


	21. Questions

When we get back to Skyhold, Cullen takes me straight to my room, passing his report to Leliana as he goes. “All four of them who fell into the Fade need as much rest as possible,” he says. “Don't disturb any of them.”

“Of course, Commander.”

“Here that, kid?” Varric says, “You're supposed to rest.”

Cole looks confused.

I'm nearly dragged to my room by Cullen, who shuts the door behind him, leaning his weight on it, and presses me close.

“Lahria,” he breathes my name between kisses.

“I was told to rest,” I say playfully. “For some reason, I imagine what you have in mind will not be restful.”

He kisses me again, and again. “I thought I lost you. I saw the dragon land, saw the tower collapse.” He's holding me so tight.

“I survived. I always survive.”

“I didn't know that. How could I?”

He kisses me, pushing me backwards until we're in my room, against my bed.

“I'm really not...” I press my forehead against his shoulder. “I'm not really in the mood for this, Cullen.”

“That's fine. It's okay.” He sits me down, sits beside me. “I just want to be with you. I don't care what we do.”

I flop back onto the bed.

“Take your armor off,” I tell him. “And join me.”

So he does.

We lay under the covers, holding each other. He strokes my back and I hum contentedly.

“Cullen,” I say. “I need to tell you something. Well, several things. But.” I clear my throat. “I want to tell you what I saw in the Fade.”

His hands still on my back and his face gets serious. “Alright.”

So I tell him about the fear demon, about the horrors we encountered and finally, his tombstone.

“I didn't mean to see it. But I did.”

He leans away, huffs out a breath as he stares at the ceiling.

“Maker. My greatest fear. Huh. To have it named like that... I'm afraid of many things, Lahria. Losing you, failing my men... snakes.”

“Snakes?”

He chuckles. “Yes. But... It's an odd thing to know about yourself, to be able to point to a specific thing and know _that's it_... Your greatest fear.”

I know what he means, and I curl toward him, wrapping my body around his. “I just wanted you to know. It seemed wrong not to tell you.”

“Thank you.”

We held each other, my cheek on his chest, listening to him breathe beneath the thin cotton of his shirt.

“Is that why you told me I was enough, our first night together after?”

“Yes. I was tired and I did a poor job of it, but I wanted you to know your fear was unfounded.”

We said nothing for awhile, quiet, enjoying the feel of being together.

I spoke again. “There was something else.”

“Mm?”

“It might be... more of a _talk_.”

I sat up, drew the blankets over the thin straps of my nightdress.

“How strictly do you believe in monogamy?” I asked.

Cullen gave an awkward laugh. “That's an odd question.” He looks at my face, knows I'm serious. He sits up against the headboard. “I've never thought about it before.”

“ _Can_ you think about it?”

“What are we talking about exactly?”

I pull at a loose thread on the blanket. “I mean... suppose one of us wanted to see other people. Say I found someone I was interested in, and... What if,” I began, then hesitated. “What if I wanted you... both?”

Cullen blinked. “Both?”

“Yes.”

He stared at me, blinking. “I... wait, what do you mean, both?”

“I mean I'm with you, and then I'm pursuing my feelings for someone else.”

“And what, you and I go on some kind of break while you figure out what you want?”

“No, I mean... in this scenario, I already know what I want. You. And them.”

“ _And_ them.”

“Right.”

“So...” He furrowed his brow. “Did you have someone in mind?”

My throat went dry. “I was mostly wanting to know if that was an option. If... I _could_ have someone in mind.”

Emotions flicker on his face. “If there's something I'm not doing... something you want.” He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing. “I know we haven't... um. Our relationship hasn't been as physical as-”

“Cullen, stop.” I throw my arms around him. I _hate_ when he goes to that place, when he thinks he is worth less than nothing. “This isn't about that.”

“Are you sure?” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat. “We could... I could...”

“I'm sure.” I kiss his face. “I love...” His eyes flick to mine. “Our relationship just the way it is.”

He looks at me a moment, breaths shaky. “Me too.”

“I don't want to push you.” I let the lust I feel fill my voice, press my lips to his ear. “I want you, Cullen. I want more than anything to take you in all the ways that I've imagined.” I can see the pulse banging at his throat. “But not until you want it, too.”

“Oh, I do.” His hands form fists against my sides. “I do.”

“But you're not ready. And that's perfectly fine. It really is.”

One fist uncurls, fingers worrying at my skin, and he sounds so small as he says, “Then why do you want someone else?”

I freeze, unsure what answer to give. _I came so unprepared for this conversation._ Eventually, I pull away from him, look him in the eye, and tell the truth. “I don't know why. I am so happy with you, so completely fulfilled in every way, and yet... my heart wanders. Maybe something's wrong with me.” I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “I... I don't know, really. I've just... I guess.” I rub my face with my hand. “I thought it wouldn't hurt to ask.”

“But you're happy?” He asks, so much concern on his face. “With me?”

An image flashes in my mind. A tombstone. _Not being enough_.

“I am _so_ happy,” I say, pressing myself into his arms. “Sorry. I just wanted you to think about it, as a possibility. Nothing has to change. I'm sorry.” I press my face against his and breathe his name. “Cullen.”

“Lahria,” he breathes back, a little teasing, a little sincere.

I trail a hand down his neck, into the loose top fold of his shirt, undoing the tie that keeps it together. “I wanted to ask something else.”

He gives a small laugh. “Maker... I don't know if I can handle any more of these.”

My fingers brush the fine blonde hairs of his chest. They're almost nonexistent, and so soft. “Cullen... stay with me tonight. The whole night. I keep waking up alone.”

“ _Oh_.” He cups my cheek with his hand, nearly as large as my face itself. “Lahria. I didn't mean to...” He kisses me. “I'm sorry.”

“You'll stay with me?”

“Yes.”

“All night?”

“Yes.”

We snuggle into the blankets, his body against mine, hard muscle beneath soft skin. I press my face to his chest, breathe in the smell of him. A warm smell, salty, underneath the smell of leather that never leaves him, and the strange, minty spice that I assume must be lyrium.

I sigh his name as he holds me, as I drift asleep.

 


	22. Dreams

[[for plot following... I skipped a lot of these, but Cullen is addicted to lyrium and is a bit of a mess. [Here](http://youtu.be/BTiqEuk841A)... [are](http://youtu.be/oKezN7NnjqQ)... [videos](http://youtu.be/xhnBeu0y1Zc).]]

Cullen tosses and turns in his sleep, muttering. I wake up, groggy, to find him lashing out at the air.

“Cullen?” I shake him, trying to wake him up, but he shoves my hand away. Hard. I wince. “Cullen, wake up.”

“Don't make me – I can't-” He groans in his sleep, grabbing a fistful of the shirt over his chest.

I'm getting scared.

“Cullen, wake up!” I grab his shoulders and shake him with more force this time.

He comes awake, arm flying, hitting me square across the face. The force of it knocks me back, nearly topples me off the bed.

I make an involuntary, high-pitched cry, pressing my hand against my jaw and muttering every oath I know.

“Lahria?” He sits up, kneels on the bed. “Maker, no. Lahria. What did I- Are you...”

I pull my hand away from my face. My lip is bleeding.

“Ow,” I whisper. “Cullen, what _was_ that?”

His hands are fidgeting in the dark, unsure whether to reach for me or keep away. “Lahria, I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry.”

I work my jaw. It's sore, but there's no lasting damage.

“This is why I don't stay.”

“Because you _hit people_?” My voice is too loud, too harsh. I just woke up in the middle of the night and got cracked across the face. I'm angry – cranky, more like it – even though I know it was an accident.

“Because I have nightmares. Every night. I know I wake up thrashing. I...” He scrubs at his face with his hands. “I didn't mean to actually fall asleep. I wanted to be here when you woke up. I wanted to have that with you. I wanted...” He shakes his head. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

“My lip is bleeding.” I touch it tenderly with my fingers. “And swelling.”

Cullen steps off the bed on his side. For a second, I think he's running away again, but he goes to the balcony. He steps out, then comes back in with an icicle, which he wraps in the sheet and holds up to me, a peace offering. “Use this.”

I take it, press it to my mouth.

He stares at me, worry all over his face. “I'm so sorry. I...”

The anger was fading. Not gone yet, but fading. “Cullen, talk to me.”

He sat back down on the bed, wringing his hands through his hair. “The side-effects of not taking lyrium,” he began. “Nightmares, hallucinations, physical pain.” He sounded like he was reading off a list. “I rarely sleep, because when I do, I... well. Nightmares.”

“Are they always that bad?”

His voice sounds small when he says, “Yes. Or worse.” He sighs. “I leave after you fall asleep because I don't want to disturb you.”

A snatch of conversation came to mind, something I had overheard weeks ago. _“His screaming woke most of us up. We thought we were under attack. Leliana came and told us to go back to sleep.”_

“Is there nothing that will help?”

“Lyrium,” he says, and there's something in his voice. Something dark and... needy. “I've tried sleeping draughts and wearing myself out, running drills before bed. Nothing seems to help.”

I pull the ice from my mouth and test the swelling with my hand.

“You help,” he says, quiet. “Thoughts of you are all that keep me together, some days. Once I... dreamed of you, instead.”

“And Cassandra thinks you're doing fine? That this is all... fine?”

“So she says.” He pushes a fist into the bed. “But it's either this, or...”

Or undoing everything you've worked so hard for.

I dab at my mouth with the ice, not sure how long I'm supposed to keep it there. Cullen watches me. “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine.” There's still an edge to my voice.

“You know I didn't mean...” His voice breaks. “I would never hurt you. Never.”

I tug my boots on. “I need to take a walk.”

“Lahria...”

“Cullen, please. I just need to clear my head.”

I leave him there, arms wrapped around himself, staring after me. 


	23. Suffering

I fall asleep in a pile of sacks in the tavern's attic. When I open my eyes, Cole is staring at me, head cocked at an angle that makes his face almost perpendicular with the floor.

“He didn't mean to hurt you,” says Cole.

I groan.

“It's too early for this.” I struggle out of the sacks, muscles aching. Everything hurts. I miss my bed.

I stagger out of the tavern, ignoring the bawdy jokes made by virtually everyone who sees me. I wander until I find Cassandra. She looks up from a book – a book she slams shut and shoves under her shield – as I approach her.

“Tell me about lyrium,” I say.

“Ah.” She frowns at my lip. “Did he do that?”

“Not on purpose.”

Cassandra nods. “Hallucination?”

“Dream. I tried to wake him up.”

She shakes her head. “I think the dreams are the worst for him. If he was actively hallucinating... I might have to suggest a replacement. But so far, it's just dreams.” 

“ _Just_ dreams? Has he ever told you what they're like?”

“Leliana has. His men have. He thinks people can't hear him, but they do. His men respect him too much to mention it. Many of them are templars themselves, and admire him for it. Those that don't are too scared of me, or Leliana.”

“Is there nothing that would make it better?”

“Trust me. We've tried every option. It gets worse before it gets better, but it _can_ get better. He _can_ do this.”

“That doesn't make it any easier to see him suffer.”

“No. It doesn't.” 


	24. Fadewalking

I entered Solas' room with a quiet knock. “Lethallin? Are you busy?”

He slipped a sheet of paper into his book. “No. What did you need?”

“You said we could practice my dreaming abilities.”

“That I did.” He glanced up at the sunlight pouring in from the upper stories. “Wouldn't you prefer to wait 'til nightfall?”

“Actually, I had some questions.”

He settled in his chair, ready to answer, ready to enjoy my asking, like he did every time.

“Can I enter other people's dreams, like you do?”

“That depends on the dreamer. You and I can interact in the Fade mostly because of your anchor. It makes it easier for you to walk in the Fade, to control the dream instead of being dragged along by it.”

“So you can't enter just anyone's dreams?”

He grinned. “Are you jealous, lethallan?”

“No. I'm wondering...” I sighed. “You said you could sense when I was having a nightmare and pull me from it. Could I do that to others? Prevent them from having nightmares?”

“Would be an exhausting hobby, I would think, keeping others from nightmares. Don't mention this to Cole. He'll try.”

“I just want to prevent one person from having nightmares.”

Realization dawned on his face. “Your Commander.”

“Yes.”

Solas rubbed a hand across his forehead. “His templar abilities are used to prevent magic. That training makes it difficult for anyone to use magic on him, even when he isn't actively using those powers. “

“So it can't be done?”

“I said difficult, not impossible. Your anchor might make it easier.”

“Teach me how.”

He lifted the cover of his book with one finger, then let it fall back into place. “Very well. Let's go to your quarters, then.”

 

\---

 

I lay on the bed, with Solas sitting over me. He explained some basic information needed to be done as I drifted to sleep. “Everything in the Fade is shaped by will. Will yourself to be somewhere, and there you will be.”

“Isn't it difficult to focus on falling asleep while also trying to focus your will on something else?”

“You grow accustomed to it. Now try and sleep. Focus where you want to go. I will sleep as well. Try to find me and pull me to your location.”

“Oh, sure, no problem.” I rolled my eyes. “You're an awful teacher.”

He lay down at the foot of the bed. It looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“You're really going to sleep like that?”

“Would you rather I lay beside you?”

My throat went dry. “No.”

“Then this is fine.”

I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, imagining the woods outside of Haven, trying to will myself there.

At some point, I finally fell asleep. The world became liquid, insubstantial. I tried to picture trees, and paths, the smell of the camp fires and the green of the rift as I ran the deer paths in the snow.

Suddenly, I was there.

I was exactly where I intended to be, but I had no idea where Solas was.

“Hello?” I shouted. “You forgot to mention how I find you.”

I waited a few minutes, wondering if he would answer. When he didn't, I began walking the forest. Was I supposed to try and find him... literally? The Fade is a rather large place to search.

“You find me with your mind,” said Solas from behind me.

I whirled. “Where did you come from?”

“I pulled myself to where you were.” He looked at the woods. “You got here remarkably fast. I'm impressed.”

I waved my marked hand. “You must be right about the anchor.”

“Or you're just an exceptional dreamer.”

I look away, refusing to let him make me blush. “So how do I find someone?”

“You have to have a feel for them. Their spirit. It's easiest with people you know well, so finding your Commander will not be difficult.”

_Your Commander. That's how he always refers to Cullen._

I turn back, quirk an eyebrow at him. “And do I know you well enough to find you?”

Solas keeps his eyes downcast. “I don't know. We'll have to see.”

“So I... what? Imagine you?”

“Feel for my spirit with your own, similar to how you would reach for the essence of an element – fire, or earth, or ice – when casting spells. Draw my spirit with your own. I will feel the pull and come willingly. With others, the pull will be enough to direct them to you, though they won't be aware they're doing it.

After a few more questions, he left me in the forest. I felt like I should count to ten, like this was an elaborate game of hide-and-seek.

I closed my eyes, trying to “feel for his spirit.” I felt a little silly doing it, unsure whether what I was doing was right.

First I imagined his face, his eyes, his expressions. The shape of his hands. The way he moved when he walked, when he was casting spells.

All of that was physical, though, not his spirit, so I thought deeper.

His voice. The notes of longing I often found there. He _wants_ so much. How still he is, but not quiet, not peace. Control. A carefully tuned instrument. Careful. Always careful. Always aware. He knows so much, watches everything. All that knowledge, all that seeing, it brings him joy, fascination, but so much sorrow. Ignorance is bliss, they say. He can never have that. The knowledge brings a weight, a burden. Tight control, a heavy sorrow, and too much knowing. Too much wanting. Too much, bound too tightly.

I heard a gasp.

“You... you did it.”

I opened my eyes, spun to face him. “I did it?”

He was looking at me in wonder. “I felt you reaching out to me, this insistent tug. I came willingly, but even if I hadn't, I think you may have pulled me here.” He took two steps, eyes never leaving mine.

“Maybe it was the anchor.”

“Or maybe it was you.”

We were standing so close. Naked admiration on his face.

_Too much, bound too tightly._

I swallowed. “So it should work then? Do you think?”

His expression changes, coming back to himself. “Yes, I should think. I worried practicing on me would be too difficult, but calling someone with lyrium in their veins will be just as difficult.”

“Why would calling you be so difficult?” I teased, playful, trying to break the mood. “You really think you're that complicated, lethallin?”

Solas' face held a strange expression, then broke into a slow grin. “Maybe not. You found me." 


	25. Making it Easier

We talked about what happened, and I soothed his fears the best I could, but I could still see it all over his face. Cullen was always a step away from falling apart, it seemed. I wondered, now, if being off lyrium was adding to his insecurities, was making him fragile. The lack of sleep wasn't helping, either. _Why have I never considered this before?_ I berated myself. _He hid it. He wants to appear so strong._

I wrap my arms around myself at the thought. I always tell him how strong he seems to me... I hope he doesn't think that means it's what he _has_ to be.

His hands on me, too, were delicate. So afraid of hurting me again.

I didn't tell him my plan. I didn't want to give him false hope, since I wasn't sure if it would work. Solas said the lyrium would make it hard, even if it's no longer as strong in his system... it's still there.

So I waited for evening.

 

\---

 

“Try to get some sleep,” I tell him, lowering myself down the ladder. “I mean it. I want you to sleep.”

“Yes, mother,” he smirks.

“Cullen.” I try to be stern. “Please sleep.” My stomach flutters with nerves. Sleep so I can try.

“Is that an order, Inquisitor?”

“Yes.” I let out a giggle. “Sleep.”

 

\---

 

I'm almost too nervous to sleep myself, but eventually I do, slipping into the Fade like passing through a wall of water. I had asked Solas to show me some places that would be quiet, safe, free from spirits. I was standing in one, now. A stream in a forest, snowmelt trickling over stones.

“ _He might not be aware,” Solas had warned. “Most people cannot control their dreams. You would be shaping it for him. To him, it would seem like an ordinary dream, just a much less frightening one. Imagine him sleepwalking, with you guiding his steps. That is what it might be like.”_

I reached out with my spirit, searching for his, focusing on the essence of him.

Quiet strength, a confidence when with his men, wrapped around so much that is unsteady, unsure. A heart made of golden sunlight, pure and good and kind. He is so much more than he realizes. Honest, true, loyal, faithful. Every good thing.

My heart was warming at these thoughts, and I lost myself, describing how I see him, maybe more than how he is.

Nevertheless, it worked.

He was wearing the softer clothes he wore when he was with me, but barefoot. He stumbled to the edge of the brook and knelt, dipping his fingers in the cool water.

“Cullen,” I said, smiling.

He looked up, eyes a bit unfocused. “Lahria.” He rose and stepped over the stream, wrapped me in his arms.

He was usually so hesitant. But here-

Cullen rained sweet kisses over my face, hands tangling in my hair as he slipped his lips against mine, kissing me deep.

I was breathless.

He pressed his body against mine with no second thoughts, not a single drop of the careful hesitation I was used to. He guided me to the ground, to the soft grass. I let my legs tangle with his as he drew his fingers down my neck, over my collarbone, lower.

I gasped. “Cullen.”

“You're so beautiful,” he breathed in my ear, mouth at my pulse and dropping.

“ _He might not be aware,” Solas had said._

_This is unfair._

I wiggled out from under him. “Cullen, um... how about we do something else?” I didn't want to do something else. I wanted him to keep going. He always stopped himself when we were together, always held back. He wasn't doing that now.

“Lahria,” He gave me a sloppy grin, biting his lip and looking at me in a way that was downright _filthy_. “Come on.”

“You're dreaming,” I blurted out. “If you were awake and knew I was seeing you like this, you'd turn bright red and bolt for the door. I can't let you-”

His hands were on me again, sliding up under my shirt. I had never felt his hands on my bare skin like this. He traced my spine with his fingertips, hands moving to my shoulderblades as he pressed me close.

A whimper, a gasp from my lips.

“That's better.” He pressed his lips to my earlobe and a gentle bite to my neck.

I was seeing stars.

“Cullen, don't.” I pushed my hands against his chest and shoved. “I want you, but not like this.”

He backed away then, confusion on his face.

 _Mythal save me,_ I thought, _I'm going to end up giving him a nightmare about being rejected._

I stood, hands fisting in my linen pants. “You can only have me if you catch me.”

He bit his lip again, scar pulling up in a grin. “Is that how you want to play it?”

I ran, sprinting through the trees. I grew up in forests like this. I deftly stepped over roots, ducked down seldom-used trails. I could outrun him in this.

 _Better a dream about being sexually frustrated, chasing me for hours, than taking his virginity in a dream without him knowing_ , I told myself, not really buying it. _The way he had kissed me_. I shivered, and almost collided with an over-large bush.

“Pay attention, Lahria,” I growled to myself.

I could hear his footsteps in the wood, his muffled curses as he tripped on the undergrowth.

I nimbly leapt up and grabbed a low-hanging branch, swung myself up into the tree.

I watched him as he searched for me, getting frustrated as he pushed away branches and got twigs in his hair.

“Lahria, where are you?” He kept shouting.

I was going to wait him out.

“ _How do I know when I'm waking up?”_

“ _You'll feel reality around the edges, feel yourself slipping away, becoming solid.”_

I was starting to feel that now.

_How to end this on a good note?_

I hopped down from the branches, straight into Cullen's arms, and kissed him. He pressed me against the tree, a growl behind his teeth. “There you are.”

I could feel myself slipping. “See you in the morning,” I whispered.

“What?”

Then I was awake.

 

\---

 

I slipped into his office, quiet as I could, and climbed the ladder.

He was sitting up, hair a mess, shirtless. _Perfect_.

“Good morning.” I smiled at him and crawled onto the bed. “Did you sleep well?”

“Actually... yes.”

The warm orange light of sunrise was hazing through the hole in his roof, making his skin glow. He trailed a hand down my arm. “I dreamed of you.”

“I know.”

He chuckled. “How could you know?”

I keep my eyes away. “I... learned how to keep you from having nightmares. Solas did it once, pulled me from a nightmare, into a nicer part of the fade. I asked him how he did it, so I could do it for you.”

“I don't understand.”

“That was me in your dream. The real me. I brought you to the stream, and-”

Cullen's face burned scarlet. “The real you.”

“Yes.” I nestled against his chest. “I didn't want to stop you.”

He cleared his throat. “I, ah...”

“You should touch me like that in real life. It was amazing.”

His heart was hammering. “Yeah?”

I let myself give a light groan. “ _So_ amazing. I'm sorry I had to stop you. I figured you wouldn't want our first time to be in a dream.”

“Thank you. I, um...” He pulled away, tipped my face up with his knuckle. “You stopped the nightmares.”

“Yes.” I beamed. “I can do it again. Every night, in fact.”

His eyes turned soft, face filled with wonder and disbelief. He pressed his forehead to mine. “I don't deserve you.”

I kissed the tip of his nose. “Hopefully this will help. I wanted to make it easier for you. I wish... you could have told me sooner, how much pain you were in.” His lips parted to speak and I rushed on, “Not the physical pain. You told me about that. But the... I don't know. The rest of it. Even if I didn't know how to stop the nightmares... I could have listened. Helped some other way.”

He pressed me close. “I didn't want to worry you.”

“I want to worry about you. I care about you. Let me care for you.”

We held each other, soft touches and softer kisses, my mouth still sensitive, until we had to get up, get dressed, face the day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is a REALLY obvious step, her learning to fadewalk to calm his dreams, that the game never explored. Actually, Solas teaching her to fadewalk is NEVER explored, even after they discuss how her anchor makes it easier for her. Sigh. So much the game didn't do. *gives you fic* there, look, I fix. :P


	26. Sleeping Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: here there be smut. :P

The next night, Cullen came to my room, stripped off his armor, and lay on the bed. When I got there, he was already as soft and lovely as I liked him to be.

“I could get used to this,” I said, walking in to him reclining against my pillows, muscled arms above his head.

He chuckled. “Maybe you should.”

“And you're staying the night?”

“If you can stop the dreams, I'll stay every night.”

He didn't move as I crawled across the bed, swung one leg over him. I was straddling his stomach – careful not to go lower – and kissed him.

I made him lean forward just far enough to tug his shirt off over his head.

Our kisses quickly turned hotter, deeper, breath and hands and small muffled sounds from me. He brought his hand up to the hem of my shirt, fingers hesitating just a second before sliding against my back. I gasped.

“Is this alright?” He asked.

“More than alright.”

As his fingers ran along my spine, my shirt rose higher, the bare flesh of my stomach touching his. I felt his other hand shift to my hips, push me back.

Back against his own hips, and the hard member I could feel pulsing against my backside.

Cullen's cheeks were a little pink at this, and I was worried he would ask me again if it was alright. I pressed a kiss to his mouth to silence him, letting my hands roam the muscles of his chest.

“May I?” I asked, wiggling my hips.

He frowned, unsure what I was asking.

So I showed him, lifting up and sliding back, angling myself so that the length of him was pressed against the sensitive parts of me.

He pressed his head into the pillow and groaned softly.

“Is this alright?” I asked, a little mocking.

“Maker's breath, Lahria.” His grip on my hips tightened.

 _So much fabric in the way_ , I thought, but didn't want to push him.

I gently rocked my hips against his, breath heavy, wet. His eyes were on me, biting his lip, light groans as I moved.

“Last time,” I said, panting a little. “You left before I got to have any fun.” I stopped his apologies before they started with a well-aimed thrust that made him squeeze his eyes shut. “It's my turn.”

“What do you-”

I ground my hips against him and slipped my hand around one of his, guiding it up my side, to my breast.

He breathed my name again.

Hand where I wanted it, I grabbed the headboard with both of mine, working him with my hips, slow and rhythmic.

He softly kneaded my breast through my shirt, a thumb brushing against my hardened nipple.

I swore.

“Do you... like that?” He tried it again with purpose.

I groaned, rewarding him by pressing my hips down harder into his.

He drew his thumbnail across my nipple, scratching lightly at the fabric.

All this waiting, all these not-quite touches. I was going to lose my mind.

“Cullen,” I whimpered. “Can I have you?”

“Yes,” He whispered, then said, “Wait. What do you mean?”

_This is not the time for this conversation._

He had shifted his hips slightly so that he was getting less sensation from our movements. Avoiding a repeat of last time.

I shifted him back, getting groans and labored breaths for my efforts.

My hips were moving faster.

“You're going to make me...”

“Make you...” He saw the fire in my eyes. “Oh. _Oh_.”

“Is that alright?”

There was a growl deep in his throat as he pulled my face down to his. “Yes.”

I rode him faster, harder, until I came, moaning his name into his neck.

He followed shortly after.

“We really ought to do this with... less clothes,”I said, poking him in the side.

He was still breathless. “I'm sorry. I...”

I nipped at his earlobe. “It's fine, Cullen. I'm just teasing.” Our breathing grew regular again, and I kissed the slowing pulse at his neck. “You know I'm ready whenever you are.”

“I... I know.” He rolled to face me, put an arm around my waist. “Thank you for waiting.”

“It'll be worth the wait,”I grinned, sloppy, kissing him, then wincing at my tender lip.

He drew a finger across my chin. “I'm so sorry I hurt you.”

“You've said that. About a thousand times.”

“I know.”

Our fingers twined together, faces pressed against each other. “Sleep with me. I'll keep you from the nightmares.”

He smiled. “I know you will.”

When he looked at me, eyes soft, face shining with affection, I almost had to look away. I wasn't used to this... this...

 _being adored_.

“Sleep, Cullen.” I tugged his face to my shoulder, wrapped an arm around his head, fingers trailing through his hair. “I've got you.” 


	27. All New, Faded for Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :S I hate this part. ALRIGHT, LET'S GET IT OVER WITH.

[[For plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/Dcz3IyUFE3A), stop at 1:49]]

“You’re scheduled to go to the Storm Coast again in a few days-“

“No.” I point to the map. “Change of plans. We’re going to the Exalted Plains.”

“What? Why?” Cullen frowned. “What’s there?”

 _Please, Lethallan._ The pain in Solas’ eyes. I didn’t understand his connection to spirits. But I understood he needed this. “A lot of undead,” I joked. “And if we can leave this afternoon, we will.”

“I don’t know if the men can be ready by-“

“We’ve already set up some camps there. We don’t need a full entourage.”

“Yes, you do.” Cullen leaned his fists on the table. “That region is crawling with demons and undead and-“

“And I’ve dealt with both before. We’re leaving today.”

Cullen’s eyes flashed. We never argued about anything except my safety.

“My scouts can be there faster than your men, Cullen,” said Leliana. “I can send the word now. They’ll work ahead of the Inquisitor’s group, clearing the way. Will that suffice?”

I could see the loud _no_ written on his face, but he nodded. “If it has to be today, that’s the best option.”

Leliana left immediately. Josephine followed, sensing a storm, I assumed. I turned to go but Cullen’s voice stopped me.

“Lahria.”

I took a deep breath. “We have to leave today, Cullen. Someone is in danger and there isn’t much time.”

“Who is? We can send a message to our scouts there, have them look into it. They’ll get there even faster than you will.”

I was not about to explain to a templar that I needed to free a spirit, a demon, from mages who captured it. Not even if that templar was Cullen. I shook my head, turning to face him. “I have to go. It’s important. I’m sorry that you don’t agree with the decision, but-“

“I don’t _agree_ with you taking so many risks, no. You know how I feel about that.”

“And I'm sorry, but this is a risk I have to take.”

I turned to go, and Cullen let me, still glaring at the war table like it would give him answers.

 

\---

 

I stepped out of the war room to find Solas standing by the fire, staring at the flames. He jumped at the sound of the door slamming.

“And?” He asked. Concern was written in every line of his body, every tense muscle of his face.

“We're leaving. Let me grab Cole and … well, Iron Bull is less likely to protest.”

Solas nodded. “Cole, yes. Thank you.” The door opened again and I saw Solas look over my shoulder.

I turned to see Cullen, brow still stormy.

“Let's go.” I touched Solas on the arm, and we left.

 

\---

[[for plot following: [continue previous video](http://youtu.be/Dcz3IyUFE3A). Stop at 5:18]]

 

The pain I saw in him nearly broke me. I didn't understand, not really. Cole was as close as I had really come to dealing with spirits. But...

“Let me know if I can help.”

He whirled on the mages, magic crackling in the air as he summoned fire.

“Solas!” I reached for him, but he dodged me. “There has been enough killing today.”

He stopped, fists clenched.

“I'll meet you back at Skyhold.”

 

\---

[[for plot following: [continue previous video](http://youtu.be/Dcz3IyUFE3A), start at 5:48. Clearly, Lahria chose the other option, haha.]] 

I find him the next day, on his couch, head in his hands. He has a book open in his lap but isn't reading.

"Lethallin." I reach out a hand to touch his shoulder, but pull back. "Are you-"

"I'm alright. It just takes time."

"You know I'm here if you need to talk. If you need anything." 

"I do." He lifts his head, gives me a small smile. "Thank you. Again. For everything."

_You don't have to carry this by yourself_ . I sit on the couch beside him, pull my knees to my chest, and take a book from a pile on a table near the couch.

I open it, and start reading, sitting quietly.

It's a volume on Elven legend. I skip through the chapters, turning to my favorite stories. I know them by heart.

Solas watches me a moment, then places his head back in his hands. 

The way I sat on the couch, our legs are touching, barely. I keep my eyes on the page, scanning the words, and place one hand on his back.

His muscles go tense for a moment. I rub his shoulder lightly, in small circles, the way my mother used to when I would wake from bad dreams.

_You aren't alone._ I don't have the words to comfort him, and maybe words aren't what he needs. I just want him to know that I'm here.

So I flip through the pages, letting my arm go warm against his back, my fingertips tracing loose circles.

I feel his shoulders shake, hear his hitched breath. He cries so quietly.

A piercing pain rips through my chest, and I bite my lip. 

He leans his head into my shoulder and my arm across his back becomes a hug. The books fall from our laps, forgotten, as I hold him while he cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hugs Solas* I hate this.UGH.
> 
> But you know what comes aaaaaafter this queeeesssstttt.... ;)
> 
> SUPER SPOILERY FUN FACTS ABOUT FADED FOR HER BELOW STARS
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> "All New, Faded for Her" ... the title of this quest is an anagram for "Fen'harel, Dread Wolf."  
> Also, my headcanon is that the line in the cut scene... "It is possible that they seek information it does not wish to give and they intend to torture it." ... Clearly, Solas cares deeply for Wisdom, but I think he also worries the mages have summoned her to extract information about Solas' nature/location/secret, and he feels this doubly painfully because he's worried he is the reason his friend is being tortured.


	28. So What Does This Mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What you've all been waiting for <3

[[Relevant cut scene: [watch](http://youtu.be/y1OB_7Etols). Stop at 1:25]]

“It means I have not forgotten the kiss.”

My heart pounded in my ears.

“Solas.”

“I know.” He looked away. “I've seen you with him. Our Commander.” He shook his head. “As much as I want you, I won't ruin what the two of you have. It...” Solas' eyes close and he shakes his head again. “It's beautiful, and there isn't much in your life right now that is.”

“Solas.” My voice is barely a whisper. He steps towards my bedroom and I grab him by the arm. “Don't go.”

“It would be better.” He turns to me, trembling. “But losing you would...”

And he kisses me. In every touch, his arms around me, his lips fitting into mine, I feel the words he isn't saying. There's a gentleness and longing in those kisses, and a desperation.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” _I love you, heart._

I'm too breathless to stop him when he leaves again.  


[[Okay now you can watch the rest lol]]

\---

 

I need to talk to Cullen. And to Solas. _Damn this is getting complicated_.

I step into Solas' room and he smiles at me before ducking his head down to his books again.

“Lethallin,” I say, stepping toward his desk. “Can we talk about... about that.”

“Of course.” He settles in his chair, then takes a breath. “I apologize for kissing you. I... lost control. I asked you to give me time, and in that time, you found the Commander.” I open my mouth to speak, but he continues. “There's no fault in that. I made no claim on you, no obligation to wait around for me to decide what I wanted. I don't blame you for finding someone else.”

“But you still have...” I didn't want to put words in his mouth.

“Feelings for you. Yes, I do.” He was so calm about this, so rational. “And I apologize for acting on them. It won't happen again.”

“Even if I want it to happen again?”

His mouth parts, but he closes it again and furrows his brow. “You shouldn't be with me.”

“Shouldn't? Or is that just another way for you to say _you_ aren't sure that you really want to be with _me_?”

“I _am_ sure. That's the problem.”

“I don't-”

“I'm sure that I shouldn't have you, that you deserve more than I could ever give you.” He takes my hands. I'm taller than him in this moment, and it makes him look vulnerable. He sighs. “And yet I'm sure of how I feel about you.”

His words make me smile despite myself. I quickly put the smile away. “Why shouldn't you have me? Explain that part.”

“I... can't.” He doesn't meet my eyes. “Cullen is good. He's loyal. He's... he will be good to you. He could be your everything. I could not.”

“Maybe I don't need you to be my everything.” I kneel down on the floor and put a hand to his face. He leans into it and closes his eyes. “And maybe I should be the one to decide what's good for me.”

“I didn't mean... Of course you should. But I want you to know, now, that there isn't a future with me like there is with him. I can't give you that.”

“You give me more than enough.” I take a long, shaky breath. “I need to talk to Cullen.”

“Don't leave him for me,” Solas whispers, closing his eyes, placing his hand over mine. “I don't want that.”

“Then I won't.”

I stand up and back away, but Solas doesn't let go of my hand. For one fleeting moment, I see panic and pain on his face before he wipes it clean and lets me go. “Dareth shiral, Lethallan.”

“I'm coming back.”

He doesn't look like he believes me.

 

\---

 

“Cullen?” I slip into his room. “Are we alone?”

He grins. “For now. Should I lock the doors?”

I stare at my feet. “I need to talk to you. It's... well. We need to talk.”

He gets serious. “Maybe we should go to your room, then.” He slips around me and starts across the bridge to Solas' room.

“No!” I shout. “I mean, um. Please, can we talk here?”

He looks at the door to Solas' room, then back at me, and his face turns grave. “Maker's breath.” He rubs his face with his hand and closes the door, throwing his weight against it. “It's happened, hasn't it. You and Solas.”

“I- I don't... What makes you say that?”

He sinks to the floor then, digs his hands into his hair. “We had that talk... your questions about monogamy. I knew there was something there, with you and him. I saw it. Everyone saw it. Josephine told me it was just friendship, some sort of elf thing, or mage thing, that there were parts of you I couldn't understand, and-”

“You had an entire talk with Josephine about this?” I sounded annoyed. I _was_ annoyed. _Some sort of elf thing?_

“I just asked her if she thought I should be worried. If there was anything there. She offered an explanation.”

I crossed my arms, staring down at him. I had thought to join him on the floor, but now I didn't want to. “And why didn't you ask me if you thought something was going on?”

“Honestly, I don't think I wanted to know. I didn't want to be right.” He looked up at me, hurt in his eyes. “But it seems I was.” He sighed. “So go ahead. Hit me. Make a clean break. It's a theme in my life. Always falling for mage girls I can't have.”

“Cullen.” I sat on the floor in front of him, arms around my knees. “No one's saying you can't have me.”

He rubs the back of his neck, eyes down.

“Cullen...” I took a breath, rubbed my eyes. “Solas and I have feelings for each other. We've had a connection, even back in Haven, but Solas didn't want to pursue it.”

“I see.” He sighed. “And now he does?”

“Now he does.”

Cullen snorted, and the scar on his lip pulled up in a sneer. “ _Now_ he does.” He sighed and his brown eyes turned soft. “So what are you going to do?”

“That's what I wanted to talk to you about.”

We held each others' gazes a moment, worry on his face.

“Josephine was right. There are parts of me that you can't understand, that Solas can. But there are also things between you and me that aren't there with him. I asked what you thought of monogamy earlier because... well, I... I want you both.” I shake my head. “It was just... an idea. A foolish wish, I guess.” My voice was tapering off, getting smaller and smaller.

Cullen stared at me. “You're asking if you can... pursue these feelings for Solas?”

“Yes.”

"And remain with me."

"Yes."

Cullen looked away, chewed his bottom lip. “What happens if I say no?”

“You and I would stay together, if you still want me. But I'm still going to have feelings for him. That's not just going to go away. I could distance myself, cut off my friendship with him if you wanted that, but I'm still going to want him.” I gave an awkward laugh. “I already tried to wish it away, and that isn't working.”

“But you would stay with me?” He reached out a hand and held mine. “This isn't, like... an ultimatum or something?”

“No, no, no.” I shook my head. “I've already chosen you, Cullen. I care about you. I'm with _you_. If you are okay with it, I will also be with Solas. If you're not okay with it, I will try to make it work between us and ignore those feelings. I don't know if I'll be successful, but I'll try.”

He skimmed a gloved thumb over my knuckles. “Say that first part again.”

“What?”

He was grinning at me. “Please?” He closed his eyes, then. “Tell me you choose me. Even with feelings for someone else. Tell me.”

“I chose you, Cullen. I still do.” I wrap my arms around him and he shifts to pull me into his lap. “I'm choosing to be with you.”

“Even if I say no?”

I press my forehead to his. “Even if you say no.”

“Even though I...” He kisses me softly. “If you explain those other parts of you - the mage parts, the Dalish parts, I'll listen. I'll try to understand.”

I hear Solas' words again. _He could be your everything._

“I'd like that.” I grinned. “Lethallin.”

He tried the word out. “Leh-thu-leen. What does that mean?”

“It's a way of addressing someone you're close to, such as friends or family. If we were back home, I would have used it long ago, but...” I blushed. “I didn't think you would care. You wouldn't understand what it meant.”

He cups a hand around my cheek and gives me a sad smile. “I do care, Lethallin.”

I giggle. “Oh, Cullen. No. Lethallin is for boys. I would be Lethall _an_.”

His ears were a bit pink. “S-sorry. I'm sorry. Um.”

“You're learning.” I bury myself in his chest, in the hard leather and soft feathers, wanting him out of the armor so I could hear his heartbeat. “It means a lot that you'd even try.”

“Maybe tonight, when I'm off-duty, you can tell me more?”

“Sure.” I pull away, tuck my hair behind my ear. “Later, then.”

We both stand to our feet. “And... I'll think about it. The Solas thing, I mean. I need time, though.”

“I understand. Take all the time you need.”

“In the meantime, can you maybe not... I mean, by give me time, I mean time to think, where I don't have to worry about what you're doing with him in the meantime.”

I nod. “I'll let him know I'll be staying away, and then I won't speak to him until you say so.”

“Thank you, um,” Cullen's cheeks turn a little pink. “Thank you, Lethallan.”

My heart nearly stops in my chest.

“Was that alright?” He asks. “Did I-”

I pushed him against the door, kissing him and running my hands through his hair. My heart was singing. The word sounded so clumsy in his mouth, but Creators take me, it was the _best_ sound. I wanted to pull the armor off him and have him right there, against the door, but he pushed me back by my hips.

“Does that mean I did it right?”

“More than right.” I beamed.

He grinned. “Good. I'll see you tonight, then.”

“Later. Yes.”

 

\---

 

When I entered Solas' room, I still had half a smile on my face. He stood to his feet, startled, and I remembered why I was there.

“You-” He looked away from me. “You didn't-”

“I didn't.”

“Ah.” He raised his chin, face clear of emotion. _Is he disappointed, despite what he said before?_   “Good. I won't trouble you again.”

“Solas, I told him I had feelings for you.”

“You did?” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “And... how did that go?”

“He asked me to stay away from you-” Before I could finish my sentence, Solas lifted his eyes to mine, a look of longing and loss in them so powerful, the words didn't come. I had to clear my throat to get the rest out. “Just for a while. I wanted to let you know, so you would know why I'm keeping my distance. He needs to work through it, I think, the fact that I have feelings for you. And I respect that. I hope you will, too?”

“Of course.” He bowed his head. “I understand.”

“I asked Cullen...” I bit my lip. For some reason, I hadn't considered until this moment whether Solas would actually approve of this arrangement. “Solas, what do you think about monogamy?”

“Monogamy?” His eyebrows lifted. “Some cultures value it, others don't. It depends on the people involved, what they're comfortable with.”

Of course that would be his answer. “And what are _you_ comfortable with?”

Something in his face looked... hungry. “Why are you asking?”

“Could you answer my question first?”

“Did you ask the Commander...” He shook his head, but that look was still on his face, hands balling into fists at the base of his tunic. “Are you considering...”

“I asked Cullen if he would be okay with me... exploring my feelings for you. While still being with him.”

Solas took a half-step toward me before stopping himself. His voice was thick as he said, “What was the answer?”

“He's considering. I said I would give him time.”

“I see.” Solas' knuckles were going white.

“But I hadn't asked you. Would you be … comfortable... with-”

“Yes.” The word came so quickly, carried so much desire, I didn't know what to say. He cleared his throat and tried again. “That arrangement would be perfectly fine with me.”

“Are you sure? I don't want you to say that because you think that... you can convince me to leave him or something. I won't.”

“Good.” He was regaining his composure now. “Don't leave him for me. I've told you that already. This...” A smile quirked up at the side of his mouth. “This idea of yours is actually... I hadn't considered this an option.”

“Neither did I, until just recently.”

Solas held my gaze, warm, happy almost. It felt like such an odd word for Solas, like it didn't belong, but there he was, smiling at me, looking _happy_.

“While he considers, however, we have to stay apart. I promised we would, while we wait for his answer. So... I'll be taking others with me when I leave Skyhold. If something important comes up, please don't hesitate to speak with me.”

“But in public,” he nodded. “I completely understand.”

We looked at each other a moment, then I turned to leave.

“Vhenan,” he said, softly.

“Solas-”

“I won't say it again.” He bowed his head. “Good day, Lethallan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *snickers* I choose you, Cullen-chu!


	29. Vallaslin

Since her face tattoos are relevant to this chapter (and, of course, later chapters), here is a picture of Lahria.

\---

I meet Cullen at the door at the top of the stairs, knocking shyly. I haven’t seen him since we talked, and he should be off soon. I’m a little nervous, hands fidgeting with my hair.

He opens the door and smiles at me and I feel like I’ve just reached solid ground.

“Come in.” His voice is husky.

There are candles lit in his office. Well, there are usually candles lit in his office, but not this many. It makes the whole room glow, golden. _Like him_ , I think.

“This is corny,” he says, gesturing at the candles. “I just… I don’t know.” He rubs the back of his neck.

 _You feel like our relationship is fragile_. I step forward and hold his hand, wonder if the line he liked earlier will work again. I look up at him through my lashes. “I chose you, Cullen.” The way his lips part, I almost giggle. _Such an easy mark._ “Still do.”

He clears his throat, but his voice is still rough. “I know.”

We look at each other a moment. The candles draw out golden highlights in his hair, his eyes, and make his skin look like honey. I almost reach for him again, but he says, “So. I’m ready to learn. About, um, your… elf… stuff.”

I burst out laughing. “Elf stuff?”

Cullen’s face burns a charming shade of scarlet. “I’m sorry. I mean… um. Your Dalish-“

I stop him before he says something even more embarrassing. I’m trying to hold back my laughter so hard I’m shaking. “Right. Yes. Should I play teacher, then?” I meant it in a playful, fun way, but the way his cheeks get redder, it made me wonder… I shook my head. Time for that later.

“Well,” I ask. “What do you want to know?”

He reaches out a hand and touches my cheek. “Tell me about this.”

How quickly he asks, I wonder how long he's wanted to. “The blood writing.”

“Blood writing?” He frowns. “That sounds... well. They're a lot prettier than the name sounds.”

The idea that he's thought my tattoos pretty makes me blush. Most shemlen... have different opinions.

He sits in a chair that he's brought to the center of the room, and gestures me to the one beside it. I sit.

“Tell me.”

“They're called vallaslin. They're the symbols of our gods. We have them tattooed on our faces when we're of age. I got mine when I was seventeen. A little younger than average, but I had already been marked as a potential First for my clan, so...”

“First, as in... Keeper apprentice.”

“You could think of it that way.”

His face was so serious, like he wished he could be taking notes. It made me smile.

“The entire clan gathers around you, on your marking day. It's... equal parts exciting and terrifying. You spend days purifying yourself. Meditating on the Dalish traditions, gods, and lore. There's a lot of ritualistic face-washing, too.”

“Sounds a lot like like the vigil templars undergo before taking their vows.”

My eyes meet his, and I can't help smiling. _We never talk about these things_. “Maybe I'm not the only one who needs to share,” I said.

He gives me a sad smile. “Not everything I have to share is good.”

I slip a hand into his. “If it's part of you, I want to know.”

After a moment, he asks, “So, after the purifying?”

“You sit in the middle of the entire clan, and the Keeper stands over you. The entire thing is done in complete silence. No one in the crowd says a word. The Keeper says nothing. And if you cry, or make any noise during it, the Keeper will stop. You have to prove that you're worthy of the vallaslin by remaining still and silent.”

Cullen looks stunned. “You have to sit quietly while they _tattoo_ your _face_?”

“Told you I'm tougher than I look,” I say, grinning.

He rolls up his sleeve, showing me the small tattoo he has of the templar insignia on his arm. “Pretty sure I said about a thousand curses when I was getting this done. Maker's breath. How did you endure it?”

I raise my hands, showing him my palms, where there were still very light half-moon scars embedded in them. “I clenched my fists until my hands bled.”

With one calloused finger, he traced the scars on each palm. I shivered, hand tingling where he touched.

“And you did this in silence.”

I nod.

He looks at me with admiration. “That's... I never would have guessed any of that.” The same finger traces the shape of the vallaslin, arcing over my cheekbones and up around my eyes like the branches of a tree. “They're beautiful. I've... always liked them.”

I grin. “Cole said something about... you dream about them? A tree, holding you?”

Cullen blushes. “Maybe once. Maybe... more than once.” He kisses one cheek, then the other, lingering over them. “Thank you for telling me.”


	30. Answers

One week in Crestwood, another in Emprise du Lion, time spent away from both the men who held my heart.

Then, two days spent in Skyhold, resting, waiting for our next excursion.

I'm sitting on Cullen's desk, hands tangled in the straps of his armor, when he pulls away, suddenly serious.

“Am I allowed to ask for... conditions?”

“Conditions?”

“For your being with Solas.”

My heart lept into my throat. “Of course,” I said, then stopped. “Well. It depends on what they are.”

“Well, um.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “First... please don't, um, get more physical with him than you have with me. Until we have... you know.”

“No sex with Solas until I have sex with you. Check.”

His entire face burned red. “Right.”

“Anything else?”

“I want... equal time? I guess? I'm worried if I say yes to this, you'll start spending a lot less time with me.”

“Cullen...”

“Just... don't forget about me.”

My eyes grew wide and I reached for him.

“Not like that,” he held up his hands. “I don't know what I'm trying to say.”

I smiled. “Okay. Anything else?”

He looked to the side, thinking. “Can I add more later if I think of them?”

“Of course.” I slipped my arms around him. “Is that all?”

Cullen trailed a finger over my vallaslin. “I don't want you to stop sharing things with me. Even if I don't understand... please. Explain them to me. I know it won't be the same, but I want to try.”

My heart was singing. I pressed myself tight against his chest. “I will.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat. “I suppose...” He trailed a thumb over my cheek. “I want you to be happy.”

“Does that mean...?”

“Yes. It means I say yes.” 

 

\---

 

Cullen stands at the door to his office, arms folded, staring at the door to Solas' room.

Shouldn't he hate this? Shouldn't it feel like it's tearing him apart? Everything he knew about relationships told him it should probably feel that way. But it didn't.

She'd been with others before they met, she might be with others after. It didn't change the way he felt when she held him, or the way her eyes lit up when she woke to find herself in his arms.

She could have left him for Solas. She didn't have to wait, patiently, while he made up his mind. But she did.

Why would she go through all of that just to leave him now?

No.

He felt himself smiling. He thought of the way she seemed to glow, radiating joy when he told her his decision, how she tried hard not to flat-out run to Solas' room to tell him.

Maker, he loved making her happy.

 _I'm strong enough to trust in her,_ he thought to himself. _To trust that she'll be in my arms tomorrow, kissing me, telling me_... He grinned, replaying her words in his head, the ones he kept close to his heart, repeating them over and over.

_You’re strong enough. Good enough. Mine enough. I trust in you, whatever comes. You are exactly what I need, what you need to be._

_Ma sulevin’eth … It means ‘my certain safety.’_

_It’s just something about you, makes me trust whatever you say. It’s not your soldiers, or your position. It’s you._

_If it's part of you, I want to know._

Something in his chest stirred, feeling like the sun was coming up in his heart.

“Maker.”

_I'm in love with her._


	31. Yes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Background music for this scene (Instrumental) - Together We Will Live Forever by Clint Mansell. - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=swAicg0GjNg

When I entered Solas' room, the keep was dark, and Solas was laying on his couch, book spread across his chest, sleeping.

Dreaming.

I was wearing the soft nightdress Cullen liked – the color of deep plum, soft linen flaring around my thighs, held onto me by thin satin straps. I smile, knowing I look my best for this. For telling him.

I knelt beside him, trailed a finger over his upper arm. I knew how much he loved the Fade... would he be annoyed at me for waking him?

Probably not for this.

“Solas,” I whispered. His eyes immediately opened. “Oh! I thought you were asleep.”

“Just dozing.” He sat up, his eyes looking so much darker in the low light of evening. “You're here. Alone. I thought-”

“Solas,” I breathe his name with joy. “He said yes.”

He stands and we both rise slowly. He's taking in my face like he's never seen it before. “He said yes?”

“Yes.”

I step into his space, raise my eyes to his. My heart is pounding. He steps closer, dark eyes scanning my face. “Vhenan,” he whispers. “Ma'vhenan.” _My heart._

I can feel my lips trembling. My hands trembling.

_I didn't realize it would feel like this._

He lifts a hand between us, fingertips so close to my face, I can feel the warmth, but he doesn't touch me.

Not yet.

“Solas-” My voice cracks, throat closes. “I-”

He presses his face to mine, his lips to mine, hand at my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. He makes a small noise in the back of his throat as he draws me close, my body pressed against his.

He breaks the kiss and says, voice low, “You're trembling.”

_I'm breaking._

“I am,” I whisper, then pull him to me again.

His lean body folds against me, hands and face and mouth so soft, so tender as they touch and hold me, kiss me deep and long, drawing out every move he makes. Savoring me.

“Come with me,” he whispers, drawing away.

I never want him to walk away from me again.

But he's holding my hand, looking over his shoulder, eyes on me. He opens the door to his room, walks me through the main hall. How does he make such a cavernous room, cold and drafty, empty and dark, feel intimate?

He walks backwards, never letting go of me, as he guides me to my room.

I step in faster, kiss him. The sharp intake of breath tells me he's surprised, and the arms that tighten around my waist, kissing me deeper in the middle of the hall tells me he feels like I do. A few seconds apart is already too much, after we've waited so long.

“Come,” he whispers, breaking the kiss. “It's not far.”

Somehow, my hand in his, Solas is guiding me to my room as if I've never been there. Everything feels new.

We reach my quarters, my room, my bed.

He leads me to the edge and I sit, lean back in the blankets. Our eyes never leave each other.

He rests one knee on my bed, looks at me for a long moment, until my cheeks warm. Then he joins me, lays beside me.

My arm slides around his waist, feels the dip of his side and the curve of his back. He places a hand on my face, kisses me again.

“I've wanted you,” he says, “for so long.”

“And now you have me,” I said.

He smiled, closed his eyes, pressed his face to mine. “And now I have you.”

His hands move to my shoulders, my hip. “Turn over.”

I don't want to stop looking at him, but I do as he asks.

One arm snakes against my rib cage, the other curls around our heads as he folds himself around me, lays there with me in his arms. He trails kisses along my hairline, brushes his lips against my ear. “Ar lath ma, vhenan,” he whispers, the same words he said after kissing me. _I love you_.

Our ankles tangle together and I feel the heat of him all along my back.

I never want to move.

He takes my hand in his, twines our fingers together, then brings my hand to his lips. He kisses my knuckles, then unfurls my hand and kisses every fingertip. He says something in Elvish and I feel his lips against my hand as he presses a kiss to my palm.

“What?”

He kisses the inside of my wrist. “It was nothing.”

I stroke his cheek with my fingers and he lays my hand back down on the bed, dragging the backs of his nails up my arm to my shoulder.

I sigh his name and he presses closer, kisses the back of my neck.

“I just want to hold you,” he says. I feel his nose, his chin at the base of my skull, trailing warm breath down between my shoulder blades.

“Then hold me.”

So he does, our bodies wrapped together until we fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI if you're looking for an amazing Solavellan mix... give this a listen. I've sort of had it on repeat since I found it. http://8tracks.com/inquisitorlavellan/but-losing-you-would


	32. Rose Garden

When I arrive in the Fade, it's beautiful. A rose garden, roses of every color blooming as they wind around trellises, arches lining a tiled pavilion, with a fountain in the center.

“Hello,” Solas says, leaning against the fountain. He offers me a shy smile.

“Hello.” I step to him, take his hands. “This is beautiful.”

“I'm glad you like it.”

I pull him forward and kiss him. He reacts the same way he did during our first kiss, like he's surprised it's happening, like he's trying to take as much as he can get before it's over. Eventually I pull away.

“I need to-”

“Go.” His smile is so warm, so free of that heavy weight I once used to define his soul. “Make sure your Commander is safe. I'll be here.”

 

\---

 

I bring myself to a beautiful oasis in a shady corner of a desert, one of the places I've sent Cullen before. I focus on his spirit, find the thread of him. It's easier now. I've done it so often, it takes only a second to pull him to me.

He's more aware than usual, eyes studying my face. “I didn't think you'd come tonight.”

I cross my arms. “You thought I'd leave you to your nightmares? No, Cullen. Never. If I can find you, I will bring you to safety.”

Cullen grins. “You.” After a second, his grin turns mischievous. “So... how did it go?”

I can feel myself blushing. “It went, um... well.” A smile I couldn't control bloomed on my face.

“You sound like me,” he laughs.

I give him a shove, which he turns into a hug.

“Were you this adorable when we first got together?” He asks.

“Shouldn't you know?”

“I'm not even sure how I _survived_ us getting together.”

I had to laugh at that.

There was a pause, laughter fading, before I asked, “Are you okay? Did... was it hard?”

He gives me a squeeze, then kisses my temple. “I'm fine. And no, surprisingly, it wasn't. I think my worrying about what might happen if I said yes was worse than when I actually did.”

“Good.” I nestled into him, feeling his solid warmth, how much taller he was.

“Now... I'm assuming Solas is lurking around somewhere. And you're probably dying to get back.”

“Cullen, I-”

He let go of me, giving me a light push. “I'll see you at breakfast.” He winked. “Have fun.”

 

\---

 

When my steps brought me back to the rose garden, I feel suddenly shy. Solas stood, hand to one of the blossoms. He turned when he saw me, eyes taking me in.

“How are you?” I ask.

“Better than I ever thought I would be,” he replied.

“But I mean... with all of this.”

“With Cullen, you mean?”

“Yes.”

We stood together now, hands touching.

“I find myself... relieved,” said Solas. “I kept myself from you for so long because...” He started over. “I worry that ours won't be the kind of relationship that you can depend on, build a life on. I can't promise this will last forever.”

“That's a bit gloomy, don't you think? We just started. You have us already doomed.”

“I don't want to hurt you. I thought if I never acted on my feelings... you wouldn't hope for things I cannot offer. But that proved more difficult than I anticipated.”

I grinned at that.

“And this... knowing you have him in your life, it frees me to love you, to show you my feelings, without worrying what will happen to you if I leave.”

“Are you planning on leaving?” I press closer to him. “You sound... what are you saying?”

“Forgive me,” he presses a kiss to my forehead, lingering there a moment. “I think too much, about everything. What I meant to say was yes. I find it comforting, that I'm not the only one who cares for you.”

I wanted to press the issue, but soon he was kissing me, tender, long and deep. Every single touch was everything I had dreamed it would be.

I lost myself in him.

And forgot the rest.


	33. Morning

I wake up in his arms. Solas' arms. We've shifted in the night, facing each other now with his arm around my waist and mine curled against his chest. Our other hands are under our pillows, fingers twined above our heads. He is holding me so tightly. I expected his muscles to relax in sleep, but if anything he grew more tense, holding me so close, I had no room to move.

I wake up before him and watch his face as he sleeps. I can feel his soft, even breaths on my face.

 _Ar lath ma, vhenan_ , he had said. I wasn't sure what name to give my feelings. Wonder, joy, a soaring warmth in my chest to touch him. My body, my focus, it oriented itself in his direction when he was near. I was always so aware of his every word, every movement. I wanted to know him. I wanted to hold him, to ease that heaviness I saw in his expression when he thought he was alone.

Was that love?

“Good morning.” His voice was craggy, rough with sleep.

“Good morning.”

His lips pressed to my hair and he loosened his hold. My muscles flexed with their new freedom and I smiled.

What did I do to deserve the chance to have them both?

“I'm meeting Cullen for breakfast,” I say.

“Alright.” Solas sits up. “I'll see you later then, vhenan.”

I sit up, too, and turn his face toward me. “Not so fast.”

I kiss him, and his body shudders as he pulls me close, almost into his lap, kissing me until I'm dizzy. He breaks mid-kiss, wrenches himself away, eyes screwed tight, breathing heavy. “Apologies. You need to go, and-”

I press his face to mine, let us fall back against the pillows. He's on top of me now, his lithe body fitting against mine in the softest way, each part of him touching each part of me. I'm careful to keep my legs pressed together, remembering my promise to Cullen, but it doesn't matter. Solas doesn't seem to be after sex, just me. Touching me, kissing me, like he's trying to take as much of me as he can get. He's not as heavy as the Commander, and he doesn't have to lift himself by the arms to keep from crushing me. His weight is comforting, warm, and gravity settles his body into mine.

His hands are in my hair and his forehead pressed to mine as he whispers, “Ma'lath.” _My love._ He kisses me more, body curling over mine. “Isala ma.” _I need you_.

“Emma ma,” I whisper – _I am yours_ – nails trailing along the back of his skull. “Solas.” He takes a long, controlled breath, his face relaxing, body stilling. I say it again. “Emma ma, Solas.”

I listen to his breathing, arms around him, hands gently rubbing his back as he kisses me, slower and slower, until eventually he rests his head against my shoulder.

I bring my hand up to his neck, let my fingers curve around the tapered tip of his ear. The second boy I ever kissed in the clan had done this to me, and I had used it on every lover I'd had sense. Well, except for Cullen. Shemlen ears apparently were not as sensitive. I draw my thumbnail up along the ridge of his ear, applying gentle pressure.

Solas gives a violent shudder in my arms, gasping. He swears under his breath. 

My voice turns into a purr. “Did you like that?”

He trembles again as I do it more, rubbing the tip of his ear. “I like everything you do to me.”

I smile. “Good,” then pull my hand away. “I really do need to go now, though.” He doesn't move as I rise, then turn shyly over my shoulder. “I need to change.”

“And?”

I whip around, making a face. “Hey!”

He smirks, then turns to face away from me. “Someday,” I hear him mutter.

I whap him on the back of the head with my shirt before putting it on. 

When I'm finally dressed, I kneel on the bed to kiss him one more time before I go.

“Enjoy breakfast,” he says.


	34. Home

Commission for art of this scene done by the amazingly talented [Cris Felichidá](http://chococri.tumblr.com)! If the image doesn't load, [click here!](https://38.media.tumblr.com/9a593b2fde9122b8112b7df58f86142a/tumblr_nhvb6jItq71u6m763o1_1280.jpg)

Back from a short excursion to the Storm Coast to clear out some red lyrium and even more red templars, I wander into Skyhold. Cullen's in the courtyard, talking with some new recruits.

"Commander," I say, low, as I pass him.

"Welcome back, Inquisitor."

A smile passes between us.

I mount the steps to the main hall, happy to be home.

 _Home_. It brings me up short. When did I start thinking of Skyhold, of the Inquisition, as home? When did I stop longing to return to my clan? Steps on the stone, pushing the heavy doors open, seeing the small crowd that's always milling about.

Their stares and whispers, the bows of respect - it's stopped bothering me. It still doesn't feel comfortable or deserved, but I no longer hate it.

My first stop is, of course, Solas' study. He's reclining on his couch, book in hand, facing away from the door. I take a moment and just look at him, ankles crossed, one arm thrown up over his head.

I step into the room as quietly as I can. I use all the training I could remember for hunting in the woods and balance on the balls of my feet, padding along the stone floor.

I lean close beside his ear and whisper, “Solas.”

He jumps, book flying. The expression on his face when he turns to me. It's... _wonder._

“You're back.”

I sit beside him and bend to pick up his book from the floor. “I am.”

“How was it?”

I keep my eyes on the book. “A lot of death.” Before he can say anything more, I continue, “What are you reading?”

“ _Beyond the Veil: Spirits and Demons_ by Enchanter Mirdromel. It discusses the Black City, and the Magisters who supposedly invaded it.”

“I wouldn't think you, of all people, would need to read about the Fade.”

He gives me the smallest grin, barely a quirk of the lips. “It is always good to hear others' perspectives.”

“Scoot over,” I say. He does, but there still isn't enough room. “No, no, turn your hips.” I place a hand there to guide him.

I hear his breath hitch. Every time I touch him, he reacts the same way. I wonder if it will ever be casual with him, if he'll ever grow accustomed to my touch.

Eventually he makes enough room on his couch for me to settle in beside him, the two of us angled together in a way that is so _close_. We have created a small world for ourselves comprised only of our bodies, our voices, and the book. We're each holding a side, keeping it balanced on his chest.

He tells me what he's read so far, shows me some sketched drawings of the Fade. “An attempt at maps,” he says, then huffs a small laugh. “A valiant effort, but inevitably useless.”

I ask him why, and he explains. I love asking him questions. I love hearing his voice, hearing his confidence and enthusiasm, the wistfulness in his voice when he dwells on certain memories he's discovered in his dreams. It's even more alluring now, feeling his voice vibrate through my chest, seeing every expression on his face so clearly. I watch his lips move, see the corner turn up in a grin as he tells me of a theory described in the book and how the author contradicts herself two chapters later.

He turns away from the page, his mouth coming close to mine to explain a further point and I kiss him without thinking, letting my eyes fall shut and sinking into the feel of his lips on mine.

When I pull away, his eyes are sparkling, crinkling with a smile. “Ma vhennan.” His voice is teasing. “Were you even listening to me?”

“Yes. I just... enjoy watching, too.”

“Should I continue?”

“Yes. Nuvenin'ir. I just... might interrupt you sometimes.”

He nuzzles the tip of my ear, the sensitive part, with his nose, and I shiver.

His voice is low as he says, “Interrupt me as often as you like.”

I snatch the book from his hand and sit up, flipping through the pages until I find an interesting diagram. He adjusts his position, tugging me back until I’m resting against his chest.

“What’s this?” I ask, nodding to the picture.

“A map of the Veil. Much more reliable, although it does change over time.” He traces the lines on the page, halos within halos, leaning his head against mine.

I never want to move from his warmth, his embrace, his voice vibrating against my back as he tells me so many beautiful things about the world I never knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nuvenin'ir = I want more.


	35. Boys

Cullen stood on the bridge between his tower and Solas' study, leaning his elbows on the wall. Solas stood beside him.

And Lahria walked below, talking with some of members of the Inquisition.

“Our Inquisitor,” said Cullen, grinning.

“Indeed.”

The two men looked at each other then, surprised to find their own feelings reflected on the others' face.

“Maker,” Cullen laughed. “I feel like you and I should talk more. Get a drink sometime.”

“I would like that.” Solas inclined his head.

They stood a moment, watching her.

“Do you know the Elven words for 'I love you'?” Solas asked.

The Commander's face burned pink. “I, uh... no. No I don't.”

Slowly, Solas told him. “Ar lath ma.” A pause. “Say it.”

“What?”

“Repeat it back to me.”

Face turning scarlet, he did, and Solas corrected his pronunciation until he got it right.

“I thought you should know,” said Solas.

Cullen kept his eyes on Lahria, feeling completely ridiculous. “I... I'm not sure I'd feel right using that phrase. It seems like something... shouldn't that be between the two of you?”

Solas leaned an elbow on the wall and turned to face the other man. “When Lahria was a girl, her mother said those words to her every night before bed. Her parents likely said it to each other in front of her. She overheard others in the clan whispering it to their lovers. Every wedding she attended, every story told around the fire – those words were there. Likely, as a young woman, she lay in bed, whispering it to herself, wondering what it would be like to hear it said to her.”

The Commander didn't know what to say to that.

“It's your choice. But I think... I think it would please her to hear you say it.”

“I... thank you.” Cullen finally looked at Solas. “That was generous.”

“You were generous enough to say yes.”

They shared a smile, then heard Lahria call.

“Hey! Boys!” Both of them looked at her, fists on her hips, head thrown back, light on her face, and a grin tugging up the corner of her mouth. Her hair was down from its usual ponytail and the wind was tangling curls of it across her face. She pressed a hand to her mouth and blew them a kiss, bending slightly in a bow, body twisting just enough to make the playful gesture look like an invitation.

“ _Maker_ ,” Cullen whispered.

“Agreed.”

“Come join me for dinner!” She shouted.

“At once, Inquisitor.” Cullen pressed a fist over his heart in a mock salute.

She turned away, a skip in her step, radiant as the sun.


	36. Ready

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been as actively updating this because I feel like it's time for the SEX to happen and I just.... really don't want to write smut? I have nothing against it (I've written it before haha) but I just don't feel like it right now. I'd much rather write fluff. So I've been STALLING while I avoid writing the smut.
> 
> I decided to just skip it, and do it "fade to black" style. I'm sorry to disappoint... :c but I'm just infinitely more interested in the fluff at this point.

I heard the knock at my door and put down my hairbrush, grinning a little I realized I didn't know which of them was at my door, until I opened it, and saw my Commander.

Cullen stepped inside, kicking the door closed as he did so. He kissed me, each kiss a little harder as he slowly walked me to back to the bed.

He was out of his armor – he rarely wore it to see me these days – and I ran my hands down his back until they reached the hem of his shirt, then I slipped them under and up the front, scaling my fingers up the muscles of his stomach, his chest.

Cullen gasped against my mouth.

“Cullen?”

“Yes.” He said, holding my face in his hands as he kissed me, then sliding his hands down over my shoulders, working the clasps down my chest.

“Yes?” I watched his fingers work. “Or do you mean... _yes_?”

“I mean _yes_.” The clasps were coming free, revealing a hint of cleavage beneath them. His voice turned into a growl in his throat, “Yes.”

 

\---

 

It was a little awkward, admittedly, but a lot sweet. Cullen was attentive – too attentive, bordering on paranoid – and I decided, with a little more practice, I could teach him how to do it _well_.

We lay together, sweat cooling on his skin, his hair curling and mussed. I ran my fingertips over his thighs, loving the shape of his hips and the soft hair on his legs.

“Lahria.” He said my name like a prayer. Reverent tones. I had heard them before, watching him in the small chapel in Skyhold's gardens, lighting a candle and repeating the words I suppose he'd said his whole life. I didn't know the prayers, but they sounded beautiful on his lips. Everything did.

The Dalish didn't pray to our gods. Our belief in them was more about honoring their memory than asking them for favors. Seeing Cullen pray was fascinating, on multiple levels, especially when he prayed for me.

I heard my name in his prayers, echoing off the walls, asking for my safety, for wisdom in my decisions and comfort and happiness. He prayed for my happiness. I wondered if it would be right to tell him there was no need. He gave me every happiness. But maybe that wasn't the point.

I leaned over him, hands playing with the springy curls that had appeared around his ears. I parted my lips to say... well. Cullen didn't know any Elvish. Instead, I whispered his name.

He placed a hand on the back of my neck and drew our faces together, pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes. “You are...” He sighed. “I have never felt anything like this.”

 _Ar lath ma_. The words were on my tongue and I felt an ache go through me that he wouldn't know. “I love you,” I said instead, voice sounding small in the half-dark of my room. My voice had raised at the end, making it sound like a question. _Ar lath ma_ , I said in my mind, eyes closed.

“I...” He stopped himself, and a new ache went through me. He didn't say it back. _He didn't say it back._ But then he continued. “Ar lath ma, Lahria.”

“What?” My ears were ringing.

“I love you.”

“No, say it again.” I dug my fingers in his hair. “ _Say it again_.”

“Ar lath ma.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Did I get it right?”

I was too busy kissing him to answer, and when I pulled away, words poured from me. “Ar lath ma. Ar nuvenin ma'dirth. Sahlin dar'ena era.” I kissed his cheekbones, his brow, his temple. “Ma serannas. Ma vhennan in sulahn'nehn.”

“Lahria, Lahria.” Cullen put his hands on my face, pulling me back. “I can't understand you.”

"But... Ar lath ma,” I said the beautiful again. “You know what that means?”

“It means I love you.”

“Yes.” I closed my eyes, breathed the word. “Yes.” Then I said his words, his shemlen words, knowing they meant as much to him as his Elvish ones had meant to me. “I love you.”

The smile on his face and the way he kissed me told me I was right.

[[Relevant cut scene... [the canon version](http://youtu.be/DjjVF4i7ho8)]]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Ar lath ma. Ar nuvenin ma'dirth. Sahlin dar'ena era.” I kissed his cheekbones, his brow, his temple. “Ma serannas. Ma vhennan in sulahn'nehn.”
> 
> “I love you. I wanted you to say this. Now it feels like a dream.” I kissed his cheekbones, his brow, his temple. “Thank you. My heart sings with joy.”
> 
> I apparently speak Elvish now. I hope you're happy. lol


	37. Dalish

[[for those unfamiliar with solas' opinion on elves, here's some: [watch](http://youtu.be/PbVNkxJW-Ss). tl;dw - Solas is rather anti-Dalish]]

“So, what, you’re saying we should just give up? Stop trying to preserve our culture?”

“Of course not. But ‘preserving culture’ should not mean arrogantly assuming you know everything about the past.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You mean like _you_ do?”

“I don’t-“ He rubbed his forehead. “I’ve _seen_ it. I’m not just repeating what someone has told me.”

“And how reliable is the information you get from the Fade, Solas? You told me it was spirits’ emotional impressions of events. You couldn’t tell me what happened at Ostagar, remember? Too many conflicting images? How is that any clearer than the word of my Keeper?” My voice rose as I spoke, trying to shout over his muttered swearing and rapid fire Elvish I didn’t fully understand.

“It’s not all like that. Some memories are crystal clear. Some things I know, without a doubt, your clan got wrong.” He practically spat the words, his jaw clenched, teeth bared, face holding so much intensity. I came up short.

“Is that all that matters? Being right? There’s more to our traditions than that.”

“Your traditions,” he said, a finality in his tone. “Not mine.”

I blinked, stunned, then turned on my heel and marched towards the door to the main hall.

“Lahria, wait-“ All the fury was gone from his voice, replaced by panic.

I yanked the door open and he slammed it closed, arm over my head, leaning his weight against it.

“Solas, I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“My apologies,” he says. “Please. Forgive me.” His voice is soft, but the way we're standing, I can see the muscles in his arm, feel the heat from the arch of his body over mine, even though we aren't touching.

“You just got _very_ angry with me over something _I thought_ was a discussion.”

“I know. It was uncalled for. I'm sorry.” I felt him press a little closer at those words, my own anger abating.

“Where did that come from?” I was staring at his hand splayed on the door, tendons rigid. “If you're upset with me, we need to-”

“I'm not upset with you. I'm upset with... The topic is something I feel strongly about. There is so much more to our history than you, or any Dalish elf, can realize. I...” His arm relaxes, visibly, and he drops it to his side. “I want you to know everything. I don't want you to have this twisted shadow of the truth. You deserve so much more.” The last sentence was a whisper stirring the hair by my ear.

I take a few breaths, my shoulder muscles unclenching. Eventually I rest my weight back on my heels and lean against him, rest my head on the dip of his shoulder. “I _hate_ hearing that everything I’ve loved my whole life was wrong.”

“I know.” He brought a hand up to lightly touch my arm. “I’m sorry.”

“And even if it’s wrong, the stories, the rituals… all of it is so much a part of me and my life. I… it has value, even if it’s wrong.”

As I spoke, he tentatively folded himself around me, arms gently wrapping around my waist. “Forgive me. I’ve never had those memories. To me, it should all be wiped clean, replaced with something better.” I tensed, and he hurried on. “But of course those things matter to you, and if… if I’m to tell you the truth, I should do it gently.”

I let him hold me, relaxing into it. “It would help if you focused on what we got right, or the things we got wrong that were actually… better. Instead of just… ruining it.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Alright.”

I marveled at him, how he could be so passionate one moment, a streak of fury and words I barely understood, and then suddenly so calm, so soft as he held me. _Not calm_ , I reminded myself. _Controlled_.

His voice was quiet as he said, “I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

“You didn't.” I was a bit surprised that the words were true. “I was... shocked at your intensity. But not afraid. You wouldn't hurt me.”

His grip on my body grew tight.

“If you showed me some of these things in the fade, instead of just telling me, it might make it easier to understand.”

I felt him smile against my hair. “I would love nothing more than to share that with you, ma vhenan.”

“Tonight?” I asked.

“Isn’t it Cullen’s night to dream of you?”

“Ah. Right.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

“Okay.”


	38. Compassion

“She wouldn't run,” said Cole.

Solas startled. “I didn't see you come in.”

“I know.”

The elf sighed. “I'd rather not discuss this, Cole.”

“She sees the weight you carry. She doesn't know the size of it, but she sees it there. She wants to help, but she doesn't know how. If you told her how to help, she would never take her hands from you.”

“Cole...” Solas rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Don't.”

“Tightly-tuned strings on a lyre, carefully calibrated. Heavy weight, the burden of knowing, of seeing. A universe of wanting, and knowing you can't have. Too much, bound too tightly.”

“Please. I know my own thoughts.”

“Those weren't yours. That is how she calls you. In the Fade.”

_What?_ Solas stared at the boy.

“She wouldn't leave.”

When Solas didn't answer, Cole disappeared.

Compassion can only do so much for someone who will not listen.


	39. Eyes in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holotapes on tumblr gave me this fic prompt: So elves have eyes that glow in the dark, like cats. I was thinking a ficlet where Cullen jumps and gets scared when he sees Lavellan in the dark.   
> :D thanks!

Cullen backed her into the room, kicking the door behind him. His whole body curved over her as he kissed her neck. She was so little in his arms. It made him love her.

Everything made him love her.

“Lahria,” he breathed against her ear, setting her trembling. Moonlight streamed through the open windows of her balcony and he pulled away to look at her. “Lahria I-“ He yelped - a sort of high-pitched whimper. For a second, she felt him pull for his templar abilities, the magic leaching out of her.

“Cullen!” She gasped. “What’s wrong?”

All the blood had rushed to his head but the panic was fading now. “Your… eyes.”

If it hadn’t been night, he would have seen her blushing. “Oh. Yeah. Elf eyes shine in the dark.”

He relaxed each muscle group, easing towards her and holding her. “It’s… eerie.”

Her ears drooped slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“No! I… I don’t mean… _Maker_.” He kissed her forehead. “It just startled me. I’ve never seen eyes _shine_ like that.”

Lahria lifted her eyes to look into his face, the full force of her eyes glinting silver-green in the dark. Every time Cullen had ever seen eyes glow, or shine, it was never a good sign. Abominations, too many harrowings, the mad mage of Kirkwall… even the red templars’ eyes glowed.

His face must have shown his distressing thoughts, because her face crumpled. She tucked her hair behind her ears and stepped away, keeping her eyes down. “I’m sorry. We can…” She waved a hand and the candle sconces on the wall burned bright, bathing the room in warm light. “Is that better?” She looked up, a weak smile on her lips, her eyes their normal, earthly, pale grey-green.

Cullen’s heart ached to see the look on her face. “No, no, it’s fine.” He stepped to the lights and put one out, then another.

“That will take you all night,” she laughed, then doused them all in one movement.

“Appreciate the assistance.” He turned around, taking a deep breath, prepared to not react at all.

When he knew what to expect, it wasn’t as bad. It was odd, different from what he was used to, but so was everything about his Inquisitor. She was a mage who accidentally set tiny electric sparks into his body if he did too good a job in bed. Her hand glowed green at all hours, and she had to wear a glove at night so the brightness wouldn’t wake her up. She whispered Elven words in his ear, endearments he was still learning to decipher. She could walk in his dreams, pulling him from nightmares and keeping him safe with abilities he had been taught his entire life to fear.

“You’re remarkable,” he breathed, going to her and holding her close, tracing a finger over the vallaslin on her face, another part of her that was strange and beautiful at once. “Everything about you is more than I ever experienced, or ever hoped for.”  

Her eyes glimmered in the dark, and he saw their light crinkle in a smile.

“I love you,” he said, then corrected himself. “Ar lath ma.”

She giggled. “I love it when you say that.” _It sounds so cute with your accent_ , she thought, but didn’t say. “And I love you.”

His eyes lingered over her, loving the way her curves – and her eyes – looked in the moonlight. Cullen tugged her to him by her hips and kissed her sweetly.

Then not so sweetly.

Then they were doing a lot more than just kissing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanon: elves' ears twitch slightly with emotion. not a lot. juuuuust a little bit. :P


	40. Lavellan

There was a knock at the door.

“No,” said Solas, voice playful, tugging my hips back to him. “The Inquisition can live without you for a moment.” He took the tip of my ear in his mouth, teeth grazing my skin.

My legs trembled.

“Solas,” I said breathless. “You can live without me for a moment, too.”

“Says who?” His voice in my ear was low with lust and laughter.

The knocking grew more insistent and I wiggled away. He had let go and fallen back on the bed where he’d been sitting.

I’m sure my cheeks were pink, radiant, glowing, when I opened the door.

“Cullen,” I said, breathless, a question in my voice.

He wasn’t smiling.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I’m sorry to disturb you. It’s… important.”

I sobered immediately, and I heard Solas’ feet pattering across the floor of my room, coming to stand behind me. “What’s going on?” I asked again.

Cullen stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“Sit.” He gestured to the bed. His voice was gentle, and that made me afraid. If there was danger, something we could fight against, he’d have a plan. He’d be telling me what to do. This gentleness…

“Cullen, what’s wrong?” I let him take me by the arms and steer me to the bed, where I sat, looking up at the two people I loved most in the world.

Solas folded his arms, his thoughtful pose, standing beside Cullen, eyes on him. I loved that he wasn’t leaving, wasn’t “giving us space.” I loved that Cullen wasn’t asking him to.

And I was terrified.

“My men have come back from Wycome.” He doesn’t look away from my face as he tells me. “The rumors of how your clan were being treated were all true. Our soldiers tried to protect the elves, show that the Duke's treatment of them would not be tolerated, but...” Cold, cold dread sank through me as he spoke. “He did not back down. He sent a force much larger than we could have anticipated.”

I swallowed hard, tears already stinging my eyes. “How many were lost?”

Cullen opened his mouth once, then closed it, then finally said the words. “All of them.”

Something shatters inside me, jagged edges scraping the inside of my rib cage as I try to breathe. My ears are ringing. “No.” The words sound nothing like my voice. “You can’t know that.”

Solas sits on the bed beside me and take my hand in his, using the other to curl my fingers around his because I’m not moving. I can’t look away from Cullen’s face.

“The few soldiers who made it back were in bad shape, but all their reports matched. The Duke destroyed every last trace of Clan Lavellan.”

I feel every ounce of strength in me crumble. Cullen kneels before me, takes my other hand in both of his and presses his forehead to the fist he's made around my hand. “Lahria, I am so sorry.”

Hot tears spill down my face as I think of them. Their names. Their faces. Meeting them for the first time, taken to the Arlathvhen by my mother and Keeper of my old clan, both hoping to find someone to take me – and my magic. I don't even remember my mother's face, but I remember the Keeper, the young couple who raised me as their own, the other children.

I heard a keening whine long before I realized I was making the sound. Solas let go of my hand, wrapped his arms around my shoulders instead, stroking my hair and whispering comfort. “Abelas,” he whispers, among other things.

Cullen sits beside me on the bed, wraps his arm around my waist and leans against my free arm, still holding my hand in both of his.

And I weep, loud and hard, sobs shaking my entire frame. Neither of them let go of me. Neither of them try to shush me, try to stop my tears. They hold me, whisper their condolences, their love, their sorrow at my sorrow, and they lean on either side of me, keeping me together, making me whole in the midst of this.

When I'm out of tears, my sobs empty heaves of muscle, Solas kneels on the floor and unties my boots, slips my feet carefully from them. By some wordless communication, they act as a team, Solas wiping my tears, helping me into softer clothes, and Cullen dousing the lamps, turning down the bedclothes, bringing me clean handkerchiefs.

I climb into bed myself, limbs shaking.

“Would you like me to make you some tea?” Asks Solas. “It will help you sleep.”

“I don't want to sleep.”

“Is there anything you need?” Cullen asks, one knee on my bed.

“I need _you_ ,” I say, my voice cracking on the word. “Both of you. Please. Don't leave me here alone.”

A look passes between them, standing on either side of my bed, then Solas undoes his belt and slips his necklace over his head, placing them on my end table. Cullen has more to remove, and he steps into the closet beside my bed to take his armor off.

Solas slips under the blanket and gathers me to his chest, face nestling against mine as I curl my fists against his heart. I think I might start crying all over again.

I feel the weight of Cullen's body as he joins the bed, and his warmth as he presses himself along my back, tucks his arm around my waist. I can feel his breath stirring my hair.

“I'm sorry if this is awkward or-” I start to say, but both of them stop me.

“No, vhenan.”

“It's alright.”

Two heartbeats – one under my hands, the other at my back. My feet tangle in Cullen's and I breathe against Solas' collarbone.

I am safe, and I am loved.

 

\---

Cullen and Solas lay wrapped around her - their love. They can see it on each others' faces now, that they both love her. Cullen thinks how glad he is that he didn't stop them from finding each other, that he was strong enough to trust in her.

Solas thinks how grateful he is that she will have him, that when he has to leave, he won't be leaving her alone.

Then she starts trembling, her breaths ragged.

“I did this. It was my fault.”

“Lahria,” Cullen squeezes her, “It is not.”

“I sent the soldiers. It was my decision. I thought I would keep them safe. There could have been another way.” She's hiccuping now, through her sobs, voice rising higher, losing strength as she speaks. “And now they're gone. They're gone and there's nothing I can do to fix it.”

Cullen opens his mouth to try and comfort her, but his eyes catch the expression on Solas' face. The elf looks like Lahria sounds. He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his face to hers, blocking Cullen's view, but he hears the other man whispering, “I know, vhennan. I know.”

The Commander was reminded of what Lahria had said after losing the Chargers, that he couldn't just grieve with her, he had to make it all about “duty and honor.” He keeps his mouth shut, lets Solas do the talking, and focuses on holding her, enveloping her body in his.

Eventually she stills, her breathing going even. Only when he's sure she's asleep does he close his eyes and whisper, “There is no darkness in the Maker's Light and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost. Draw your last breath, my friends, Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky. Rest at the Maker's right hand, and be Forgiven.” When he opens them, he sees Solas watching him. “Sorry, I-”

“A noble sentiment,” he says. “You should have prayed when she could hear you.”

“I... I don't know any Elven prayers.”

Solas let out one soft huff, then said, “She likes listening to you pray. I catch her loitering in the gardens, pretending to pick elfroot with one ear tilted to the chapel.”

Cullen smiles, then offers something of his own. “When she leaves my office and goes to see you, she always pauses before the door before she opens it. She does that... that thing where she ducks her head and bites her knuckle.”

“When she's trying not to smile?”

“Yes. Every time.”

Both of them seem to feel their happiness is inappropriate at the same time.

“Did she tell you what she saw in the Fade? The tombstones?” asks Solas.

“She told me mine.”

“Ah.” Solas trailed a hand down Lahria's arm, eyes on her face. “Her greatest fear was making the wrong choice.”

Cullen winced. “ _Maker_.”

They lay in silence a moment, then Cullen said, “Should I go? You're... better at this than I am.”

“She would want you to stay.”

“I know, but..” He began the task of untangling himself from her without waking her. “I can't exactly, um. I have nightmares. I'm not sure if she'll...”

“I could do it. I was the one who taught her how.”

“You... what?”

“Did she not tell you?” Solas smirked. “That little trick was mine first.”

Cullen felt his cheeks growing hot. For some reason, nothing tonight had felt the least bit awkward until this moment. “I...” He cleared his throat. “I wouldn't ask you to-”

“I've spent much more time in the Fade than she has. I can get rid of the nightmares without involving myself in your dreams.” Cullen was about to protest again, when Solas continued, “She asked us both to stay.”

The Commander settled back into the bed, sighing. “Alright.”

 

\---

 

Neither of them slept for a long time, but when they did, Solas was true to his word, gently untangling Cullen from his nightmare and placing him somewhere else without truly interfering. He didn't interfere with Lahria's dreams, either. She wasn't fully conscious in the Fade, and images and colors swirled around her in a pleasant fog. Solas watched, steering her away from anything too sharp, or any memories to do with her clan until he sensed her waking up.


	41. Yes I Have

In the night, all three of us had shifted. Cullen was lying flat on his back with me curled up next to him, my back pressed against his side. Solas was spooned against me, my lips against his neck and my arm around his waist. He rolled over in my arms and smiled.

“Morning.”

“I could get used to this,” I said. “Waking up with both of you.”

Solas chuckled. “I'd much rather have you alone.”

“So would I,” said a much rougher voice from behind me as his hand came above my head and held my own there.

I grinned for a moment before I remembered.

“ _Oh_.”

“I told Josephine to clear your schedule for the day,” said Cullen. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Thank you.” My voice was small. I sat up, tugging myself away from both of them. “But I’d really like to _do_ something. Run. Fight. I don’t know. I can’t just… sit around all day.”

Cullen sat up with me, rubbing my shoulder. “There’s a patrol leaving today. It’s routine, not going far. Some small groups of bandits stirring up trouble. Nothing big.”

“Yes,” I say, stretching. “Please.”

“Do you want me… us… to go with you?” He asks.

I turn to see them over my shoulder, Cullen with his elbow resting on his knee, eyes so anxious on me. Solas still laying on his side, completely at ease in my bed.

 _Ma’arlath’en_ , I think. _I love you both_.

“I’m sure you both have better things to do than follow me around.” I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

Cullen looks like he’ll protest, but he nods instead. “I’ll arrange it, then.” He gets up to don his armor and I fall back on the bed, Solas quickly sliding into place beside me.

His eyes with their long lashes roam my face. “Vhennan,” he says. “Dirth isala’ma ar’halani ma’enasal. Ma u’dar din’nadas in’abelas.” _Tell me if you need my help overcoming your grief. You don’t have to be alone with your sorrow_. I had said something similar to him once.

I close my eyes and lean into his body, loving the sound of our language on his lips. He speaks it differently than anyone I’ve ever known, making the words beautiful, as well as old. “I know,” I whisper.

“Ar’nuvenin ma’dar atisha. Hamin.” _I want you to be at peace. At rest._

“Ar tu’dar, sahlin’din.” _I will, but not for a while_. I sighed. “Ar’suledin.” _I will endure this loss._

Solas squeezed my hands in his. “Mahvir, ma’dar enasal.” _Eventually, you will replace your grief with joy._

“Sahlin’din,” I said again. _Not today._

“Din.” _No_. He waits a beat, then kisses my face. “Ir’abelas.” _I'm so sorry._

“Ma’serannas.” _Thank you._

We go quiet and I realize it’s been a while since I heard the clank of armor. I pull away from Solas. “Cullen?”

 

\---

 

He feels his face burning as he steps from the closet, full armor on, looking sheepish. “I wish I knew what you were saying.” He blushed. “Not that I mean to eavesdrop. I just-“ _I’m jealous. I want to know every single part of you. You’re showing me, slowly, teaching me._ _But it’s so_ _ **easy**_ _for him._

Lahria sits up and takes my hands, smiling a little. “You understand when I say I love you, Cullen. That’s enough.”

Cullen saw a look pass over Solas’ face at that, a slight shock, then he wiped it clean. The emotions flickered on his face over a matter of seconds, then there was no trace of it.

 

\---

 

“You can meet me by the gate after breakfast?” asks Cullen.

I nod, noticing his use of the word _me_. “You don’t have to come.”

“I want to.”

“But-“

He bends to kiss my forehead, gloved hand tangling in my hair. “I want to.”

He turns and goes, and I feel Solas come to sit beside me.

“Do you want me to come as well?” There’s something tentative in his expression that reminds me of before, when he would watch his every word.

“It’s going to be boring,” I say. “You really don’t have to.”

“That isn’t what I asked,” he says.

“You’ve already done enough.”

He runs a hand down my arm. “It’s been a long time since I had someone to take care of, vhenan.” His voice is quiet as he meets my eyes. “But I want to take care of you.”

I feel a warm blush creeping over my skin at the depth of his sincerity.

“You don’t have to,” is all I can say. I feel rich, gluttonously rich with love that I don’t... Tears prick at my eyes and I turn away from the concern in his eyes.

“Vhenan,” he says. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but it needs to be said. You were careful, cautious, and you chose the path you thought would save your people. You acted with the best of intentions. There is nothing you could have done differently.”

I was shaking my head, throat aching _. It's not enough to have tried_. "You don't understand. It doesn't matter what my _intentions_ were." My grief turned the word into a snarl. "They're still..."

"I know," he said. So much empathy in his eyes when he looked at me.

"You _can't_ know." I was shaking. "You've never been the reason everything you love is dead." 

"Yes I have." His voice was a quiet, tense whisper, ‎voice lilting in pain at the end. 

My head jerked up and I met his eyes, saw the sorrow I always saw in the lines of his face, but this time I knew it. I recognized it - that weight - the same weight that was heavy on me now. We looked at each other and I felt like I did when he called me in the Fade, pulling me to him by my spirit, naming me in his heart so loud that mine had to answer.

My breath caught in my throat, coming out as a tangled cry. "Solas."

I sank my arms around him and he crushed me fiercely to him. My body was sore with the force of his grip on me but I couldn't let go, and I was surely clutching him just as hard, pressing our bodies so close together, like we were the only solid things in a world gone mad. I sobbed hard, pressing my open mouth against his shoulder and crying out – a plaintive, cracking ache made vocal – and I felt his hands in my hair, fists tugging, nails digging into my skin. I wanted him to hold me harder, hold me together.

“They're gone.” I heaved when I could finally speak again, coughing.

“They are.”

“And it was my choice.”

“It was.”

I held his tunic in my fists so tightly the fabric creaked.

“And I still love you,” he said, voice strong against my gasping. A statement. “Every choice you've made, every drop of blood on your hands.” He relaxes his hold in stages, slowly pulling me back so he can look at me. “You are still the most beautiful thing I have seen in this world.”

“Solas, I-”

“Hush.” He kissed me once, softly, then more, opening my mouth with his, tongue licking the insides of my lips. He tilted me backward, arms cradling me as I sank to the covers. He worked his hands beneath me, dragged me up the bed. My pants slid up my legs. Rug burns on the backs of my calves, but the way he was kissing me, our faces pressed together, his body covering mine, I didn't want him to stop.

He drew his teeth along my jawline, down the tender column of my throat. He kissed the hollows of my collarbone. I could feel his breath down my shirt, warming the skin over my heart.

I could feel the broken pieces jangling inside of me, wanting him to rip the skin from my body for what I'd done, and wanting to be held and kissed and told it would all be okay, it would all be fine. I could be whole again. I could be-

He held his face against my cheek, trailed kisses into my hair, fingertips dragging furrows along my scalp as he trailed his tongue over the arch of my ear.

“Vhenan,” he said, hand cradling my head, the other sliding soft against the skin of my hip. He gently pushed one of my knees aside, slid his own knee between my legs, but didn't touch me. “Ma'vhenan.” Voice so low in my ear I shivered.

“Please,” I whispered, unable to say much else. Tears were still leaking out the sides of my eyes. He kissed them away. “Please, Solas.”

His eyes met mine, a question there.

I lifted my hips to brush against his thigh and he leaned against me, his body filling mine with heat even through our clothes.

My hands fumbled for his waist and he took me gently by the wrist, putting my hand over my head. “Not today,” he said, kissing me softly. “Let me take care of you.”

His dark grey eyes were so beautiful so close to mine, and as he kissed me, I watched his feather lashes rest against his cheek, then closed mine as he started a slow gentle rhythm with his hips. I sighed, body throbbing as he took his time. He drew his thumb over my cheek and his lips over my shoulders, warm and gentle.

I tugged the hem of my shirt and he undid the fasteners, but not too far, just enough to take his soft touch lower.

I came quietly, body making a low arch against his, and then he moved off me, and we were curling around each other in a tight twist. He never took his warmth or his touch from me, but tugged the blanket up around us, keeping me close.

“Solas, I-”

“It's alright.” He kissed me again. “We'll talk about it later. Just rest.”

And I did, drifting in and out of sleep, listening to the sound of his voice as he hummed a familiar tune, an old Elven song I had almost forgotten.


	42. Abilities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY - Check out the awesome art I commissioned on Chapter 34 - <http://archiveofourown.org/works/2905226/chapters/6763394> :)

When I reached the gate, my muscles were loose and relaxed. I felt good… physically at least.

Cullen was waiting for me, eyes on me the entire way down the stairs to the gate.

“You still want to go?” He asked.

I nodded, buckling one of the straps across my chest.

Cullen’s men were giving each other significant glances and whispering.

“The Commander and the Inquisitor accompanying them for a failure routine matter,” said the Commander, muttering under his breath. “They probably think they’re being punished for something.”

I laughed. “Are you so harsh, to _inflict_ me on them for their bad behavior?”

He grinned. “Of course,” then his eyes shifted over his shoulder and he gave a nod.

I turned to see Solas there, vest on, staff ready. I was about to protest, but knew he would come anyway.

 

\---

 

It was slow going making our way down the mountain, even with the road we’d cleared leading the way to Skyhold. The paths we took to the village were rough and mostly untraveled. Cullen apologized and explained his strategy, but I was happy for the time. I loved being away from Skyhold, having the cold wind in my face and getting a chance to use my muscles. I became a creature of movement, thoughts free to wander.

Cullen and Solas walked to either side of me, our trio leading the larger group. The two of them talked together over my head.

“I know you left the order, but do you still use your templar abilities?”

“From time to time. I haven’t had reason to do so in a while.”

“I’ve yet to have the opportunity to observe templar abilities up close. I’ve seen Cassandra’s seeker talents, but I wonder if there are differences.”

Cullen snorted. “Sure there are. I can’t boil someone’s blood just by looking at them.”

“You disapprove?”

“It’s another way the Chantry controls its templars. Feed us lyrium, and then use Seekers to boil the lyrium in our blood if we step out of line.”

The emotion in his voice brought me out of my thoughts. I turned to look at him rubbing at his forehead.

“But not you,” said Solas. “Not any longer.”

“How did you-“ Cullen turned sharp eyes on me.

“She said nothing, Commander,” Solas spoke, palms up in protest. “It was a rumor I heard.”

“Maker. I’m the subject of gossip now?”

“I believe your relationship with the Inquisitor would have done that, if you hadn’t been before.”

Cullen laughed and smiled at me, and I ducked my head down, keeping quiet.

“Has it had an effect on your abilities?” Solas said when the laughter faded. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Yes and no. They require more mental effort now. But I can still use them.”

I turned a sly glance to Cullen, remembering the last time he’d _used his abilities_ , and he blushed.

Solas saw it. I saw his brows lift in the corner of my eye when I looked back, but he quickly covered it with his usual expression.

“Would it make you uncomfortable if I requested a demonstration?”

“Not really,” said Cullen, but he looked uncomfortable anyway. “Did you have something in mind?”

“I could cast spells at you.”

I stopped walking. “What?”

“Templars are immune to magic,” explained Solas. “He wouldn’t get hurt.”

I spun to Cullen, hair flying around my face. “Don’t exhaust yourself just to show off.”

He made a face. “Just how weak do you think I am?”

“I didn’t mean-“

Cullen crossed his arms and tilted his head back. I knew that look.

“Let’s do it.”

There were whispers from the men behind us and I realized that they had probably been listening to everything we were saying.

We continued walking until we found a grassy area beside the road that was relatively clear.

Cullen didn’t even pretend to command his men to keep walking, and they all gathered around, a small crowd to our display.

Solas tossed a small fireball in Cullen’s direction. It vanished from the air before it even made it halfway to the Commander.

It was amazing. I had never seen Cullen _really_ use his templar abilities, and certainly not in combat.

Solas tried a larger fireball this time, which against dissipated in mid-air. He made one more, largest yet, and it, too, vanished.

Cullen looked remarkably pleased with himself.

I swung my staff above my head, summoning electricity from the air, and sent a bolt of it flying.

He let it get close, holding out a hand and waiting to dispel the energy until it almost touched his fingers. It looked as though he caught it and collapsed it into ice blue light. He looked up from his hand, meeting my eyes, and smirked.

“ _Commander_ ,” I breathed.

“Lahria,” said Solas, placing the blade of his staff on the ground beside mine. “Together.”

Cullen folded his arms. Daring us.

I felt Solas gathering stray magic from our other spells, and I released energy from my hand, letting my fingers open, drawing the power from me and into the world so he could use it, adding my will to his spell. He pulled back his hands, ready to spin it forward towards the Commander, but-

I gasped.

All the power drained from me and I staggered, feeling Solas go unsteady, too. All the magic we had mustered was gone, even the reserves we had not used. With one motion of his hand, Cullen had made all of it _vanish_.

I felt a little lightheaded and I sank to the ground, taking deep breaths.

Cullen quickly crossed the space between us and knelt. “I’m so sorry. That was probably too much, wasn’t it?”

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine.”

Solas was leaning on his staff, staring at the Commander. “Fascinating.”

“Are you both okay?” He had his hand on my elbow, helping me to stand.

“You cut off our connection to the Fade,” said Solas, staring at his own hand. “For a brief instant, you reinforced reality to the point that magic did not exist. It’s gathering in us again, but it will take a little time.”

I leaned a little on Cullen’s arm. “It felt like getting the wind knocked out of me.”

“In the Order, they call it Silencing. It prevents a mage from using any magic for a time, rather than just purging specific spells.” Cullen seemed to notice our audience for the first time. “Keep moving. All of you.” At the sound of his command, his men pulled back the road without a backward glance.

“You’re _magnificent_ ,” I said. “You know that, right?”

Cullen’s cheeks burned red. “I, uh… well. You’re pretty amazing, too.”

“Solas giving me a small smile. “Indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one cares but because I’m a GIANT NERD:
> 
> In an interview with David Gaider , he said that templars will lose their abilities if they stop taking lyrium. But the fact that Alistair in Origins has full templar abilities without ever having taken vows (or taken lyrium, despite that same interview saying otherwise. DA:I dialogue with Cullen, which I’m prone to take as more canon than an interview, says you don’t taste lyrium until taking your vows) proves Alistair’s point he makes in dialogue about templar training - that lyrium enhances a templar’s ability but isn’t necessary. Seekers also do not take lyrium but have similar abilities (although their initiation is also slightly different, so who knows). 
> 
> Since mages derive their ability from a connection to the Fade (unreality/all things are manipulated by your will), and templars/seekers (according to banter between Cassandra and Solas) “reinforce reality”, I wonder if there are two kinds of magic in the world… that which is present as part of Thedas, and that which exists in the Fade. 
> 
> Given that Elven magic comes from the Fade, and what we learn from Solas about ancient elves and their ability to use magic “as part of them,” and their ability to live forever… and given that dwarves cannot use magic at all and have no connection to the Fade… I don’t know. I wonder if there’s multiple kinds of magic, and if that hints at the origins of the different races. 
> 
> AAAAAAANYWAY #GIANTDWEEB


	43. What Pride Hath Wrought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL It's time to proceed with plot quests, kids. SIGH. And so the end begins.

[[for plot following: [watch](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P2TdPIxtlhE)]]

 

The Arbor Wilds are beautiful, even crawling with red templars and Inquisition soldiers. Nervous energy builds in my limbs as I speak with each person gathered. Should Celene be on a battlefield? Should Josephine? We seem safe enough for the moment, but the presence of all these people makes me worry. _They trust in us too much._

 

\---

 

[[for plot following..... hng. I can't find a video of this, but when you're off running around killing stuff, you fight alongside various groups of soldiers, and Cullen is in one of those groups. so. There.]]

Once, Cullen told me he was jealous of the way Solas and I coordinate in battle, our magic synchronizing to protect each other, moving together without thought. I had tried to put it into perspective, explaining that if Cullen and I fought together as frequently, we would move in harmony, too. I knew it wasn’t enough, that he was still jealous.

I hadn’t had many chances to see him in combat. Usually when he fought, I was busy trying not to die, or keeping others from it. But I saw him in the Arbor Wilds. He was a force, a thing of power and precision. I had felt the hard lines of his muscles and the strength in him when we moved together, but now I knew why. I saw him do what he had trained his whole life to do.

And it was _glorious_.

“Commander,” Cassandra called when the small group of red templars had fallen. She was asking him for a status update. Important things.

My brain was fuzzy.

It was then that I realized that since I had come in range of seeing Cullen, I hadn’t actually moved.

Solas dropped the barrier around me and I saw him grinning. “Enjoying the show?”

“I, uh…”

“You’re blushing.” The look on his face was insufferable.

“Thank you, for uh…” I gestured to where the barrier had stood a second ago.

“Of course.”

Cullen had been seeking me out with his eyes and I stepped into the water where he and his men had gathered.

“Inquisitor,” he said, wiping blood from his cheek. He repeated some instructions, then grinned, scar pulling up in a way that made my body go hot. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” I said, full of thoughts _very_ inappropriate for a battlefield.

As we headed off, I glanced over my shoulder to see him again, and nearly stumbled.

Solas laughed, low and quiet, deep in his chest. “Maybe I should push you in the creek. Cool you off.”

“Shut up,” I hissed.

 

\---

[[for plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/w0sIZgU_8CY). skip from 2:30 to 3:00 cause it's literally a black screen. Then stop at 5:20, before he asks about Mythal. Better cut scene about that later. And pretend the Inquisitor is Lavellan and not some nasty dude]]

 

We all threw our weight against the door, sealing us against Corypheus.

“So!” said Varric as we all stared at each other, panting. “What the hell?”

Explanations came, but they brought more questions, more fear. I turned away.

The temple was even more beautiful than the forest, the ruins. I spared a moment to marvel at my life – a constant mix of blood and beauty, the horrible always tangled up with the wonderful.

 

\---

[[for relevant cutscene: [watch](http://youtu.be/ZRsHi7srNU0)]]

 

Morrigan explains the wolf statue, but I don’t need it. “The Dread Wolf,” I say, eyes lingering on the curves of the statue’s face. “Fen’Harel.”

I see Solas’ hands grip his tunic in fists. Of all the parts of Dalish history and lore he delights in retelling, this is one I have yet to hear him discuss. “So, Solas?” I ask, a bit teasing. “I assume we got this wrong, too?”

His expression flickers a moment with pain, and I worry that teasing him about our disagreement might have been too soon. Every time Morrigan speaks of the elves, I see Solas grinding his teeth, gripping his hands in fists. I know he'd like to argue.

 _Is he holding back because of my feelings?_ I smile a bit at that.

“Let's move on.”

 

[[for important lore/background stuff regarding Mythal: [watch](http://youtu.be/wcNPBj00fMc)]]

 

\---

 

[[relevant cut scene: [watch](http://youtu.be/AS-EXzjNudc)]]

 

“My clan never had stories like that,” I say, the words coming out a bit harder than I mean them.

“Never mistake the Dalish for arbiters of _true_ Elven culture.”

I could feel the look I was giving Solas, this mixture of shock and anger. _How dare you_.

“Perhaps we should move on?” said Morrigan in that careful, lilting way of hers. “Before the Inquisitor murders our _expert_ here.”

“Good idea,” said Cassandra, marching onward. “We didn’t come here for a tour.”

“Vhennan, I’m sorry, I-“ Solas’ shoulders are too tense for his apology to be convincing.

“No you’re not.” I step around him, gripping my staff so hard the leather straps creaked against my hand. I want to say more, but now isn’t the time.

 

\---

 

[[for plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/SA5w49zESH4)]]

 

Ancient elves. Solas doesn’t seem nearly as overjoyed to find them as I am. My entire body hums with energy. Mythal's temple was remarkable enough, with that feeling deep in your blood that you are standing someplace ancient, deserving of your respect. Abelas conjured the same feeling in me.

As we followed our guide through the hidden corridors of the temple, I turned to Solas, eyes shining, expecting the same look to be on his face, the one that told me when we got back to Skyhold, we'd be up talking about this for hours. But he just looked pensive, avoiding my eyes, grey eyes dark with sorrow.


	44. The Well of Sorrows

[[for plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/5FYTewWWSnA) and stop at 7:51, before Lavellan makes her decision]]

 

I could feel the pull of the Well, the light whispers on the water's surface.

I bore the marks of Mythal on my face, the leafless branches under my eyes a lesser form of the great tree worn by Abelas. My vallaslin. I had always been so proud to honor the gods in this way, but Abelas had said _vallaslin_ with such distaste.

“ _Fen'Harel had nothing to do with Mythal's murder.”_

The gods had always been nothing more powerful than a remote, distant memory. I believed in them the same way I believed in Arlathan – the ancient city of the elves. I honored them, but I didn't worship them, didn't serve them or pray to them. It wasn't like the Maker was for the Andrastians.

But this temple, this Well and its pull, Abelas and his warriors - I wasn't used to my gods having an actual presence in my world, real power. It made me think that I should study their histories more carefully.

And perhaps I owed Solas an apology.

“Tell me your decision.”

I cast my eyes on Solas' face once more, his grey eyes unwavering from mine. Steady. Always so steady. I wished he would take the power. I wasn't qualified, and I trusted him so much more than Morrigan.

But he didn't want it.

“It's yours.”

[[for plot following: [watch](http://youtu.be/4CTGKXPWfmA), starting at 8:48]]


	45. Ar Lasa Mala Revas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go.

[[relevant cut scene: [watch](http://youtu.be/r0JQPJZIQ9g), stop at 3:49]]

His hand in mine as we walked, as we talked about the beauty and tragedy that was the temple of Mythal... it was everything I wanted.

“I wish I had been more open to listening to you, Solas, when you talked about Elven culture before.”

He smiles at me, bumps my shoulder. “You were right to be upset. I handled it poorly.”

“I would be happy to listen to you now, though.”

His eyes sparkle a bit in the moonlight. “I'm glad.”

He walks me to a waterfall, beautiful between two statues.

“The veil is thin here. Can you feel it, tingling on your skin?”

I could, but my heart was buzzing for more reasons than just that.

Like his hand on my face. _Ma'arlath_. I knew this feeling now, could name it. I leaned into his hand and parted my lips to say it, but then he spoke.

“I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me. For now, the best gift I can offer is... the truth.”

I felt my heartbeat slam into my ribs. _I thought I knew your truth._

Every sweet word that fell from his lips was as beautiful as his touch on me, but then he said it again. “The truth,” and I felt his sorrow in it.

_Always that sorrow._

“Your face. The vallaslin.”

As Solas spoke, explained, I felt a sinking in my stomach. I remembered Abelas' disgust at the word.

“So what,” I said, voice breaking. “Is this just another thing the Dalish got wrong?”

A piece of myself was shattering.

“For all they got wrong, the Dalish did one thing right. They made you.”

 _Sweet talker_. It seemed almost like I could feel the vallaslin on my cheekbones, marking me. I had side-stepped the Well, avoided belonging to her as Morrigan was now, but the marks on my face... meant the same thing.

“If you like, I know a spell. I can remove the vallaslin.”

I swallowed, putting it off, making excuses, but-

“Then cast your spell.”

 

\---

[[relevant cut scene: [watch](http://youtu.be/lgXkX9BtqM8?t=3m49s), at 3:49. Stop at 6:09!!!]]

The magic feels cold on my face, and tingles just like the veil. When he pulls his hands away, I wonder if I should feel differently, if I should be able to feel the vallaslin's absensce. I touch my face, but it still feels just like my face.

“You are beautiful,” he says, wonder in his voice. I've never seen him look at me the way he is now.

He kisses me with such tenderness, reverence in every touch as he pulls me close, our bodies fitting each other like they were designed that way. But he pulls away – he always pulls away – and there is that sorrow there, looking at me like he might break.

“And I'm sorry.”

“Solas. What-”

“When this is over... I-” He looks away from me, long lashes against his face. “I want you to know this now. It will hurt less. When this is over, I won't be staying.”

I can feel a lump forming in my throat, heat in my eyes. “Is this because of Cullen?”

“No.” He trails a hand over my face. My naked face.

“It's unconventional, I know, but we could build a life together, the three of us.” I grab his hands in mine, seeking his eyes with my own. “Ma'arlath. I love you, Solas.”

He squeezes his eyes shut at that, lips parting in a sigh. “Don't tell me that.” His voice is small, trembling like his hands.

“It's true.” I press my forehead against his. “I _love_ you. I don't ever want to leave you.”

“I'm sorry,” he whispers. “I don't want to hurt you.”

Solas pulls away from me, stepping back. The space where he had been feels suddenly cold.

“Solas-”

“Please, vhenan.” He holds his hands up as if he's warding off a blow. “You have a rare and marvelous spirit. In another world-”

“Why not this one?”

“I _can't_. I'm sorry.” He turns to walk away.

But I don't let him. I wrap my hand around his arm, pull him back. He lets out a sound, a cry cracking in the middle, and then his mouth is on mine, arms crushing me to him. He holds me so tightly, my feet nearly lift from the ground.

“Solas,” I breathe, when I can.

He buries his face in my shoulder, shaking his head. “Vhenan. I wish...” His breaths are labored as he meets my eyes. “I will always love you. But I can't... after we defeat Corypheus. I won't be staying.”

I swallow hard. “Why?”

I see his lips part, and he takes a breath, but says nothing. He stares at my face, eyes roaming the places where my vallaslin had been. “I'm sorry.”

When he walks away again, I let him go.

[[for canon version: continue previous video]]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explanation for why I have deviated from canon here:
> 
> First of all, Solas' reasoning he gives in this scene - “I have distracted you from your duty” is ridiculous if she's also dating someone else. Haha. He'd have to come up with some other line of bullshit.
> 
> Secondly, I personally believe that Solas ends things at this point because he believes, as he said during their second kiss, “It would be kinder in the long run.” That if he pulls back now he can somehow spare her the pain of him leaving later. I feel like knowing that she has Cullen gives Solas a sense of freedom, that he CAN be with her, fully, now, despite having to leave later, because he won't be abandoning her at that point. He'll be leaving her with someone who loves her. 
> 
> Third, but I do think he wants to try and avoid hurting her, and so he tells her he's going to eventually leave instead. So she knows there's a limit to this relationship.


	46. Bare

The first thing I do when I reach Skyhold again, hair in front of my face so no one can see me, is find a mirror.

_They're gone. They're really gone._

I stare at my face for the longest time, unblinking, fingers roaming my cheeks.

Their absence leaves me unsteady. Everything feels different now. I didn't realize how important they were to me until...

_They're gone._

 

\---

 

I stand outside Cullen’s office door and rap my knuckles lightly on the cold wood. My heart is pounding with nerves.

“Come in,” I hear him say. _Why did I knock?_ I wince. _I never knock_.

I push the door open, keeping my face down, letting my loose hair act as a curtain between him and my face – my bare face.

“Lahria,” his voice goes soft, then laces with confusion. “What are you doing here?” I can hear the mental calculations. _Side door. Knocking. Body language all wrong._ “What happened?” Now there’s an edge, and I’m sure if I were looking, he’d have his hand on his sword.

“Nothing happened,” I say. “It’s not… it’s fine.”

He’s coming around the desk now. I keep my face down, berating myself. _There’s nothing to be ashamed of. There’s nothing-_

“What’s wrong?” His heavy hands, so warm, so big on my thin shoulders. I practically sink into him, face pressed against the hard metal of his armor. I hate that armor right now.

“Solas,” I say. “But I don’t want to talk about it. Can you just hold me?”

“Of course.” He engulfs me in an embrace, and I love the size of him, the solid lines of his body and how it feels to be held together by his strength. His stubble brushes my temple as he places a soft kiss there.

 _Time to stop being a coward_. I push away from him enough to tilt my head up, lift my face to meet his.

I see his lips part, his eyebrows raise as his eyes roam my face. “Your…”

“They’re gone.”

“I… aren’t they permanent?”

“Apparently not as permanent as I thought.” I give a small, bitter smile at that.

“What happened?” He’s raises a hand to my face, his thumb brushing over my bare cheekbone. It feels no different than it ever did, but I shiver anyway.

“Can I explain later?” I say. “I really just... I need to be loved right now.”

His whole face goes soft in that sweet, beautiful way he has. “Of course. You know I always love you.” He gestures to the ceiling. “Wanna go up?”

Cullen took his time on me, lavishing me with kisses and soft touch, gentle affection that worked at the sorrow in me. He didn’t ask questions, not even after, as we lay together, quiet and warm.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“For what?” He laughs softly.

“For loving me the way you do.”

He trails kisses over my naked shoulders, chest warm against my back. “And how is that?”

 _Simply. Beautifully. Never giving me a reason to doubt. Ma sulevin'eth._ “Perfectly.”

He grins. “I try.”


	47. Ma'lath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shows up fifteen minutes late with starbucks* 
> 
> I have not forgotten you, Sola/culavellan fic! Hopefully I can make up for it with some smuuuttttt? ;) 
> 
> Lahria Lavellan does not run around Skyhold in those godawful pajamas. She wears a pretty flowing elf-style robe and leggings to keep warm. Deal with it.

It was childish, but I had avoided Solas since the lake. I’d kept away from him, hidden from him in my dreams. Or rather, simply didn’t call him. Never, in all our time together, had he tried to call me to him, and he didn’t now.

I thought avoiding him would help, but all it did was make my hurt feelings fester until finally, I stood in the rotunda, arms crossed tight against my chest.

“Can we talk about this?”

Solas’ tone was cool. “So you’re talking to me now?”

I felt my cheeks warm. “I needed time, Solas.”

“Forgive me.” He closed his eyes, taking a breath. “Of course you did. I was just…” He shook his head.

I drifted closer to him, still keeping his desk between us. I had prepared what I wanted to say. “I just want to know why, Solas. I can’t expect… We never promised each other anything. But surely I deserve to know why?”

He meets my eyes and I see pain flicker on his face before he drops his gaze to his hands, a pencil stretched between them in a perfect line. “There’s something I have to do. After.”

“Okay.” I nod, hope lighting in me like the smallest flame. “I can help you. Remember, we talked about this. You don’t have to carry everything alone, ma’lath.” The last word came out before I could stop it. I tried to choke it, drop my voice to a quivering whisper, but he heard. He heard and I saw his eyes lift to mine and his whole face _shine_. It was happiness I saw there, subtle and soft, warm like sunlight through a window on a winter morning. He wasn’t smiling, not like he did when he laughed or the smug tuck of his lips when he knew he said something clever. It was only the gentlest tilt to his mouth, his eyes relaxing. His whole face seemed younger as he looked at me.

Suddenly everything I was going to say felt insubstantial.

Solas didn’t turn his gaze, didn’t speak. We just looked at each other, radiance on his face, likely a burning red blush on mine.

“I told you, at the-“

“I remember.” His voice had turned quiet, velvety with warmth. A low murmur I felt in my spine. “But I had assumed…” He tilted his head, a nod, a concession in a debate. “People say a lot of things when they’re…” Pain again in his expression. I reached out a hand to his face as if I could wipe it away. My fingertips brushed his cheekbone, my palm against his face. Solas closed his eyes, leaned into my hand, brought his up to hold it there. “And I thought you might have changed your mind.”

“No.” I drew my thumb along his skin. “I’m upset. Frustrated. Disappointed.” I huffed. “But I wouldn’t feel that way if I didn’t love you.”

His breath hitched.

“You told me not to tell you,” I said.

“It makes leaving you so much harder.”

“Then don’t leave me.”

Solas drew my hand away from his face, let it go, finally opening his eyes to meet mine. “I have to. There’s something I need to do.”

“And I can’t help?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Because I would, Solas.”

The softest sound in his throat, barely audible. “You don’t even know what it is.”

I shrugged. “Whatever it is, we’ll do it together. Like we’ve done everything else.”

“You say that like it’s _simple_.”

I laugh at that. “Nothing we’ve done together has been simple, Solas.”

He doesn’t join in my laughter, his eyes far away. “But what if-“ He licked his lips, brow furrowing. “What if it’s…” I see his hands clenching against the desk, knuckles white, then he shakes his head and I see him deflate, back bowing. “I have to do this alone.”

I want to press the issue, and have the words ready to go behind my teeth, but the weariness in his body stops me. _He has to come to me with this on his own_ , I think.

I step around the desk and kneel beside him on the floor so I’m looking up into his face. “Then when you’re done, just promise me that you’ll come back.”

He draws a ragged breath and shakes his head, the look on his face the same as when he kissed me for the first time and was unable to stop from kissing me again. _You change everything_. “Just like that?”

I smile. “I would rather be by your side. You make yourself alone, Solas, even when you’re surrounded by people. Even sometimes when it’s the two of us, you are still somehow alone.” I’ve tugged his hands around me, my own arms touching his shoulders, his chest. _I’ve missed holding him._ “But… I can accept your need to do this on your own. I don’t understand it, and I don’t like it, but I can accept it.” I held him tighter against me. “Just come back to me when you’re done.”

“How do you know you will still want to see me?” He asks against my shoulder.

I chuckle and pull back to see him. “How will you find out if you don’t come back?”

There is so much doubt on his face, thoughts clouding behind his eyes as he looks away from me. _He makes the same face every time I draw too close._ I grin, remembering our first kiss again. _I will just have to keep directing him to what’s important._

I tilt his chin toward me and kiss him, soft and lingering. His arms come up around me, hands tangling in my hair as he deepens the kiss. He pulls me into his lap. It’s clumsy, limbs everywhere. His kisses are rough and desperate, more unraveled than I have ever felt from him before.

“Vhenan.” He breaks the kiss to look at me. I can still see sorrow in his eyes.

“You’re not leaving for a while, ma’lath.” I trail kisses down his neck, dragging my nails over his collarbone and under the neckline of his sweater. “Right?”

His response is to kiss me hard, sliding an arm under my backside and standing, holding me against his stomach. I wrap my legs around him as he carries me – slightly off-balance, but strong – to the alcove leading to Cullen's bridge.

“Where are we going?”

He pushes me against the wall, untying the yellow ribbons that keep my robe in place as he goes. With just a few tugs, the silk falls open.

“Solas!” I hastily hold the fabric over my bare breasts. “Your room isn't exactly private.”

He sets me down, smirking as he throws an arm toward the entrance to our little alcove, a wall of blue-white ice appearing, making the light soft around us. “Better?”

Before I can answer, my mind goes fuzzy as he runs his hands and his mouth down my chest, tracing patterns under my breasts – teasing my nipples only slightly – then down my sides.

He whispers rapid Elvish against me as he moves down my body, the hum of his voice buzzing on my skin. “Ma’tu ar’nuvenin bora ma vir’sulevin. Ma’tu ar’nuvenin din’adar ma’dar. Tu’banal… tu’uth banal tu. U’ma.”

“I would have made a terrible Keeper,” I breathe.

He stops. “You’re thinking of this now? I must be terrible.”

I laugh. “I was taught all the Elvish my Keeper knew, and I thought I learned my lessons well, but…” I shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re saying half the time.”

He stills, then plants another soft kiss to my hip. “Maybe that’s for the best.” I flick the tip of his ear and he jerks back. “What was that for!”

“Tell me what you said.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Tell me.” I wiggle my body against him. “ _Pleeease_.”

“I said you were beautiful.” He trails his fingers down my hip bones, over the soft curve of my stomach. “That you were _u’ma belin ashen_. Singular among women.”

“No you didn’t.” I frowned. “I know those words.”

His grin grows more insufferable. “Perhaps you were just distracted.”

“ _Ma’tu ar’nuvenin_ … I make you want what?”

“You make me want a lot of things.” Solas draws his nails down my thighs, pulling down the soft fabric of my leggings down as he went.

“ _Ma’tu ar’nuvenin ma_. You make me want you.” He draws his fingertips in circles over the curve of my bare legs, arcs coming nearer and nearer to where I want them “ _Ar’isala ma, vhenan_. I need you.” Solas slowly kneels before me, lifting one of my legs over his shoulder and I whimper. He's done this before. Oh, _Creators_ , has he done this before. Fire lights up my chest at the memory.

“ _Nuvenin tu’ma bora ma’dar._ I want to make you lose yourself.”

He kisses my knee, then runs his tongue up my leg, following the shape of his fingers, not quite touching.

I make a frustrated groan and feel him laugh against the soft hair on my thigh.

“ _Tu’nadas ma vhenan’arla sulahn._ I will make your body sing.”

“By Mythal,” I whisper, head tilted back. “You’re already doing that.”

Solas stops. “Vhenan, a request?”

“Mm?” I can feel his breath between my legs.

“Don’t bring other names into this.”

I smirk. “Don’t want me thanking Elven gods for your attentions?”

“Not really, no.”

“My, your prejudice runs deep.” I laugh. “Fine. Who shall I thank instead?”

His eyes meet mine, fire there. “Me.”

A thrill runs through me but I keep my voice light, teasing. “Hmmm. Perhaps I should-”

He kisses between my legs without warning, sliding his lips around my folds softly before parting them with his tongue.

Then he pulls away. “ _Dirth ma’darth_. Say my name.”

“Solas,” I say, breathless. “Solas, please.”

He puts his mouth back on me and my mind is filled with stars as his tongue works over me, first slow and deliberate, then harder. One hand snakes up my body to palm my breast, the other holding me up. He'd apparently been taking notes the last time he did this, because he's skipped straight to every part I like, using his lips more than his tongue, and changing from quick to achingly slow without warning.

“Solas.” I start moving my hips instinctively, and he pulls back again. “Please.” I say as he moves his hand away from my chest and slides it between my legs.

“ _Ar tu dirth’ir nehn’ir._ I'm going make you call out with joy.” He slips the tip of one one finger between my lips and pushes up against the hard nub, holding it tense against me, letting his tongue flick fast over the rest of me.

“What are you doing?” I gasp.

“Nuvenin ir?” _Want more?_ I knew that one.

“Yes. Creators, yes.”

He stops, presses a soft kiss to the outer, less sensitive of my lips, never letting up the pressure with his hand.

“What did I say about bringing others into this?”

I buck my hips against him and I can feel his smile against my legs as he pinches my clit between his fingers, eliciting a cry from me.

“Solas!”

“ _Dirth ar ma’lath._ Call me your love.”

“Ma'lath,” I moan.

“Better.” His voice is a low, playful growl as he takes his hand away, pushing my other leg over his shoulder and holding me by my hips. He quickens his movement against my body, flicking his tongue, sucking and licking until I come with a shout of his name on my lips.

As I struggle to catch my breath, he lowers me to the ground and stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Solas.” I grab his hips and tug him toward me. I can feel him hard against me, and I smile, dropping my hand down his waist.

“No, vhenan.” He tugs my hand away.

“Are you sure?” I walk my fingertips over his thigh, voice lilting. “You’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.” He smiles. “But not now.”

 _Why not?_ I want to ask, but don't want to push him. “Later, then?”

“Mm.” He makes a non-committal noise and kisses the top of my head. “Now, help me get rid of this.” He gestures to the wall of ice that I had honestly forgotten was there.

Both of us burn fire through it until it's a puddle on the ground, which I quickly evaporate with more fire.

People are standing around the bannister, watching. Varric's up there.

_Clapping._

“Oh, shit,” I whisper. “I'm uh...” I cough, backing up.

Solas looks smug as fuck. “Dreams tonight?” He asks.

“Bed tonight,” I grin. “ _And_ dreams.”

“Cullen won't object?”

“He's had me all week.” I say, hand on the door to Cullen's bridge, making my escape. “It's your turn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Solas says before he starts translating: “Ma’tu ar’nuvenin bora ma vir’sulevin. Ma’tu ar’nuvenin din’adar ma’dar. Tu’banal… tu’uth banal. U’ma.” - You make me want to lose my purposed path. You make me want to not be what I am. Nothing has... nothing has ever done that, until you.
> 
> Ok but no srsly, I haven't been updating because I wanted to have my entire fic written for the Dragon Age Big Bang thing.... before I committed to it (only way it'll get done, ok). It's a Varric fic (!!!!!!!! so exciting omfg), but it's kind of...... longggg. So I also am writing a Dorian fic. *coughs* And working on prompts/ficlets. Whoops. 
> 
> Also you should check out [Other Paths](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3190295), a one-shot culavellan "what if lavellan used the time travel magic to prevent cullen from joining the templars" fic I put up in the meantime, haha. CAUSE IT'S MY FAVORITE. lol.
> 
> And like... if anyone wants to hang out with me on tumblr, I'm [AndrastesAss](http://andrastesass.tumblr.com) on there. ;)


	48. Ideas

Cullen looks up as I enter. I know there's a sloppy smile on my face and my legs are a bit shaky.

He grins, "So the rumors are true."

"What? Rumors?" My face gets hot. "Already?"

The scar on his lip pulls up in his grin at me. " It seems you were quite loud, Inquisitor." His laughter is a warm rumble. "Dorian came to deliver the news personally."

"Of course he did." I roll my eyes.

"Cassandra was here when he arrived. She tried to offer me condolences."

"Condolences?"

"Apparently the nature of our arrangement had not yet reached her. Or maybe she had dismissed them as just rumors."

"Ah."

He makes a sort of giggle-snort sound I've never heard from him. “The look on her face when I told her I already knew. Dorian had to explain it to her.”

Cullen is standing before me, grinning, his hands on my shoulders. “I take it the two of you made up?”

I blush. “Yes.”

“Good.” He kisses my forehead, then makes a face. “You smell like him.”

“I smell like him? What does Solas smell like?” I sniff my arms.

“Like... like Solas, I guess.” He stands back. “Was there something you needed?”

I look up the ladder. “I wanted to hide for a while. Can I take a nap?”

“Only if you wash first before you crawl around in my bed.”

“Yes, ser!” I press a fist over my chest in salute.

“Your form is terrible.”

I climb up the ladder, swaying my hips as I go. “I thought you were rather fond of my form.”

“I am,” that low breath in his voice makes my heart flip inside my chest as I climb.

Once in his loft, running a damp cloth over my body, half-shrugged out of my robe, his voice echoes up to me.

“You know, if I had known you were into such public displays of affection, I might...”

I laugh. “You might what? Take me on the war table?”

“Maker. Now there's an image.”

“Or on the battlements? On the throne?”

“Well, I... _Well_.”

I laughed again. “Cullen, if you're looking for ideas, I'd much rather you let me wear your helmet during sex.”

I heard something crash below.

“Cullen? Are you alright?”

“My helmet? Why?”

“And your fluff.”

“ _Pauldrons_.”

“I think I'd look rather nice with a lion's head and a flowing red cape... and nothing else.”

I could hear a muttered _Maker's breath_ from downstairs and I giggled.

“Just an idea,” I sing-songed, fully clean and naked in his room. I took one of his shirts – clean, folded crisply and in neat piles with his other things – and slipped it over my head before crawling into his bed to nap.

 


	49. Bora’din Ma’dirth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bora’din Ma’dirth - I can’t cast off my truth.  
> \---  
> a thousand million spoilery things here, friends

Solas never had trouble falling asleep. He slipped from one world to the next as easily as entering a warm bath. But tonight he found he didn’t want to sleep. What existed in this reality was finally more important than what he saw in dreams, the world around him finally more beautiful than the world that once had been. Tonight, arms around Lahria, her breath in sync with his own, he longed to stay here, now, instead of wishing he could return to the past. Her touch chased his guilt away. Her kisses stopped his regret. How _could_ he regret a world that made her? How could he hate what he had done, when she was a byproduct?

 _These thoughts are dangerous_ , he told himself. _I’m slipping._

But it would be so easy to forget, to be in her bed every night, to fight by her side every day, to do good work with her, to love her as Solas, and not himself. He wanted to be the man she believed him to be. He _could be_ that man.

Her back was pressed against his chest and her feet nestled against his ankles. Solas trailed kisses over her shoulder, moving the thin fabric of her night shirt to touch her skin. She didn’t stir as he laced his fingers through hers and whispered her name against her shoulder blades.

 _I want to be this man_ , he thinks. _Solas, the man who loves the Inquisitor. The quiet, studious man she comes to for advice. The man she trusts._

That last thought sends pain lancing through his heart. _The man she trusts._ She wouldn’t, if she knew the truth. His truth. All that cursed _truth_ that claws at him, names and voices no one remembers, the weight of a people – the People – bearing down on him. Sometimes he finds himself unable to breathe, fists clenched, swallowing his own screams at the wrongness of the world. The world he helped create. How did everything go so _wrong_?

Lahria shifts in her sleep, rolling over in his arms so that her face is against his chest, one hand curled in a sleepy fist against his ribcage, the other draped over his side, snuggling him close to her body like she belonged there.

_Oh, vhenan._

Solas watches the flutter of her lashes against the pale skin where her vallaslin had been, the slight twitch of her lips as she sleeps. He tucks his face against her hair, breathing her in, letting his body relax into the softness of her embrace, the warmth of her breath on his chest.

_Ar lath ma, vhenan._

_She would hate you if she knew._

The two thoughts come unbidden, one after the other, striking discordant notes inside his skull and he winces. He’s acting on borrowed time _. This is a fantasy born of lies. She doesn’t love you, or at least, she only loves a part of you._

 _And why is that?_ A small part of him protests. _You’ve never given her the opportunity to know you. You’ve never trusted her enough to try._

But he can’t burden her with that. He doesn’t want her to wake as he does, opening her eyes to a tainted world and a broken, distant magic. He doesn’t want her to see him and know he’s the reason the night is dark and cold and empty.

“Solas?”

His heart thumps erratically in his chest. “Yes?”

“You’re squeezing me.”

Solas immediately relaxes his hold. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was.”

Her hand, pinned between them, slips up to his face, caressing him. “Are you alright?”

He doesn’t want her to see him like this. She’ll worry. She’ll ask questions.

“I’m fine, vhenan.”

Her solemn, sleepy eyes don’t turn away. “Tell me.”

“I-“ his breath hitched. _Ar’nuvenin dirth ma. I want to tell you. I want you to know me, vhenan_. He pressed his forehead to hers. “Go back to sleep.”

“Solas.” She kissed the underside of his jaw. “U’ma din’nadas.” _You don’t have to be alone_. Her lips, sleepy and clumsy, kissed down his neck to his chest. She placed a kiss over his heart then snuggled into his embrace again. “Ma’lath.” _My love_.

His resolve was breaking, pieces raining down around his feet like so much harmless dust.

“Would you-“ His whisper shook between them.

When he didn’t continue, Lahria answered, “Yes.”

He gave the smallest _ha_ of a laugh. “You always give before you even know what I’m asking.”

“Would I listen? Would I care to know? Would I get up and ruin my sleep for you? Would I carry your burdens if you handed them over? Would I love you anyway? Yes to all of them.”

Solas swallowed. “You give too much.” _And you promise things you can’t know_.

He had been too afraid by the lake and even more afraid after, with the distance she let stretch between them. But then she had said she loved him, and not out of desperation or loss, but simply said it, told him she loved him in the clear, easy, natural way she told him every other truth. And she kept saying it. And she meant it.

“Sit up, vhenan. I’ll tell you.”

\--- 

We sat on my bed, cross-legged, and I blinked slowly, trying not to fall back asleep. _If it takes the middle of the night for him to trust me, then so be it._

“When I was a little boy,” he began, a smile light on his lips. “My mother called me her Fennec.”

“Like the foxes?”

Solas nodded. “Apparently I was always running, a quick little scruffy thing, with hair sticking up in all directions.” He wiggled the tips of his ears. “And of course, the ears.”

“I’m having a hard time picturing this.” I laughed, patting his bald head. “A Solas with hair.”

“I’m sure I was an adorable child. All energy and opinions. At least that’s what I was told I was like. I don’t remember.”

I tried to picture it. A smaller, softer Solas, scowling at his elders, insisting he was right. Suddenly, I burst out laughing. “Creators, you probably drove your mother mad.”

“Perhaps.” His smile was a tender, flickering thing. “My older brother-“

“You have a brother?” I nearly shouted it, grabbing his knee as I leaned closer.

“Had a brother. He died a long time ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” I pulled away.

Solas waved a hand, dismissing it. “My older brother teased me with that nickname mercilessly. _Fennec. Little fox_. I hated it. He was much older than me – better at everything. I wanted him to like me, and he wanted his baby brother to leave him alone.” Solas shrugged. “As all brothers are, I imagine.”

“I wouldn’t know.” If I had siblings, I didn’t know their names.

“He grew up, traveled. There was distance between us by the time I was a young man, but the entire village already knew me as Fennec. The little fox boy. It was insufferable to a boy of, oh... twelve. Thirteen.”

I grinned. “Why have you never told me this before? You’ve told me so much. We talk for hours. Yet _this_ ,” I gesture. “This never came up?”

Solas’ eyes remained carefully down. “It’s part of a larger story.”

I slipped my hand into his where it rested, tense but open on his knee. “One you didn’t want to tell me?” Grey eyes flicked to mine, surprised. “We all have stories we don’t like telling, Solas.” I gave his hands a squeeze. “I’m happy you’re telling me now.”

Those eyes dropped down to our hands, and he continued. “Thirteen years old, I gave myself a new name. Refused to answer to Fennec any longer. I thought myself all grown up, deserving of more. So I shortened it to Fen instead.”

“Fen?” I blinked. “As in... wolf?”

He gave a slow nod.

“Didn’t you know it’s bad luck to name yourself such a thing?” I teased him, swinging his hand playfully. “Naming a child after the Wolf calls him down on you.”

“Perhaps someone should have warned me.” His voice was quiet when he said that, and I drew my thumb over his knuckles in response. He met my eyes, gave me a small smile. “But my people didn’t have such legends.”

Solas was quiet then, and I wondered if that was all he wanted to tell me. _Surely not._

“There’s more.” He licked his lips. “But I think I want to stop for now. Is that alright?”

“Of course.” I yawned. “Maybe you can tell me more tomorrow?”

“Perhaps.”

I flopped back onto the bed with a sigh, burrowing into the covers. He soon joined me, pulling my body into his embrace so that I was warm and loved again. I made a humming sound as he tilted, moving my head to his chest and twining our fingers together.

“Fen,” I said quietly. “Do you want me to call you that?”

“No.” He drew his fingers through my hair. “Solas will do.” His hand stilled. “Or Fennec.”

A smile bloomed on my face and I nearly giggled. “Fennec.”

“Yes. Of all the names I’ve had, I miss that one the most.”

“How many names have you had?”

“Too many.” He stroked my hair again. “But so have you. Lahria. Herald. Inquisitor. First. Lady Lavellan.”

“Vhenan,” I finish for him.

Now it’s his turn to hum low in his chest, pressing my body against his.

“Vhenan,” he agrees.

He seems lighter, now. What he told me wasn’t much at all, but… _maybe it was to him_.

I roll on top of him, rest my chin on his sternum. “Fennec.”

Even in the gloom, I can see the shy smile on his face. It’s a lovely, precious thing, and I want to make it stay forever.

“Ar lath ma, Fennec.”

His eyes flutter closed and he wraps his arms around me, kisses me, a soft groan in his throat. His kisses are deep and slow, sending warmth spiraling through my veins. He shifts me off of him, settling me beside him as he kisses me gently.

“Ma serannas, vhenan.”

“For what?”

He pushes hair from my face.

His only answer to my question is a long, lingering kiss before he whispers, “Ma’arlath, vhenan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws canon out a window*
> 
> (Also: I've outlined to the ending! This will have 58 chapters, and possibly a sequel exploring what might happen Post-Game. :D)


	50. Trials

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I canNOT believe I have written 50 chapters of fic.

Days later, I awoke to jagged breaths and the low rumble of Cullen’s voice.

“I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure.” I blinked as I heard him sniff loudly, his voice wavering. “Maker, please. _She_ shall embrace the light. _She_ shall weather the storm. _She_ shall endure.”

“Cullen?”

He startled, and in the half-light I saw him scrub at his face with his sleeve. “I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”

_He’s crying._

I sat up, wrapping my arms around him where he sat up against the wall. “Cullen.” I tugged his face to my shoulder and felt his tears in the crook of my neck. I ran my hands through his hair. “What is it?”

Cullen held me close, clutching me to him and holding me hard. He didn’t make any noise, but his shoulders shook beneath my hands.

“I love you,” I mumbled against his hair. “I’m right here, and I love you.”

He pulled away and ran a thumb under one eye. “I love you.”

“Were you praying?” I asked and he nodded. I bit my lip, rubbing gently at his arms. “Praying for… me?”

“I know you don’t believe in the Maker. I’m sorry if you don’t want me to pray for you. I just-“ His voice gave out and he swallowed hard. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Cullen.” I rested my head against his chest, crawling into his lap. My head tucked beneath his chin, warm arms around me, I said, “I know what your faith means to you. If you want to pray for me… I’m honored.”

His hold tightened. “I pray for you all the time.” He was speaking in a rush, breath hot and wet. “Every time you leave Skyhold. Every time you’re rushing off to battle without me. Every time I wake up alone. Every time.” He presses a hard kiss to the part of my hair. “There are so many dangers, and so little I can do to protect you.”

“Shh.” I slipped my hands up to hold his face. “Cullen, it’s alright. I’m here. I’m safe.”

“But you won’t be. Corypheus is coming, Lahria. You’ll have to face him soon.”

“I won’t be alone.”

He wasn't convinced.

"How does the rest go?"

"The rest of what?"

I nuzzled his neck. "Your prayer. It's from the Chant of Light, isn't it? Tell me the rest."

He hesitated a moment, but held me close and whispered, "Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond."

I twined my arms around his neck, letting the sound of his voice resonant through his chest into mine.

"For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost." 

The Chant was visibly calming him. I rained kisses on his face as he said the words.

When it was over, I kissed his lips, salty with tears. "I will be safe, Cullen."

He rested his forehead on mine. "I hope you will."


	51. Fen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so woefully late. u_u; It's long, though?? Makes up for it??

“Vhenan.” He stopped me at the large door to the main hall. “Did I hear correctly? You’re headed to Val Royeaux?”

“That’s the plan.” I smiled at him, squinting a bit at the brightness of the morning.

“May I accompany you?”

“Of course. Tell Dorian he’s been relieved of duty, and ask him how his translations are going.”

Solas tilted his head. “Translations?”

“He’s working on an old Tevinter tome we found. I’m hoping if you ask, he’ll hurry it along. You know. Give him a nudge.”

“Ah.”

“Speaking of translations…” I walked two fingers up his arm. “How are you doing with the texts we found at the temple?”

He watched my hand wander up to his shoulder. “I know more Elvish than you. That doesn’t mean I know all of it.”

“Then give it to Morrigan. See if the Well has any insight.”

Solas leaned his head on my hand, pinning it against his neck. ”No.”

I laughed at the distaste he managed to pour into that single word. “Well, then hurry up.” I squirm my hand free, lean up, and kiss his cheek. He tilts his head to capture my lips and I end up feathering a kiss at the corner of his mouth. Solas’ arms immediately snake around my waist and tug me to him, kissing me with a softness that contradicts the grip of his hands on my belt.

We break the kiss and his eyes meet mine, his expression holding some nameless emotion that makes my heart ache. “What’s wrong?”

The emotion is gone, and he smiles. “Nothing is wrong. I will speak to Dorian and meet you at the stables.”

 

\---

 

The journey to Val Royeaux takes over a week in good weather, crossing the Dales, then taking the Imperial Highway past Verchiel before crossing the river through the Heartlands. As we near Lydes, however, Solas suggests a detour.

“It’s just off the highway,” he says, “It won’t add more than half a day to our journey.”

Blackwall and Bull share a look but neither of them comment as we step from the regular path and head into the Heartlands earlier than we had planned.

 

\---

 

We make camp on the crest of a hill in a green, forgotten place, half forest and half meadow. It’s stunning and peaceful, and I’m suddenly grateful for this detour. As Bull puts up the tents and Blackwall tends to the mounts, I pile kindling and wave my hand, fire warm and bright.

Solas settles next to me on the ground, his knee brushing mine. “I wanted to show you something.”

His eyes were on his hands, twirling the strange dark bone he always wore. I wanted to ask him about it, had almost asked nearly a dozen times, but never did. The coldness that always came over his features when he held it told me it was something I shouldn’t ask about. _If he wants me to know, he’ll tell me_.

“There’s some ruins not far from here.” He nodded over his shoulder. “I’d like to show them to you. In the Fade.”

“Sure, Solas.” I smiled.

He didn’t return it.

“I’ll tell the others we’ll be sleeping away from camp,” he said, moving to go, then stopped a moment to grin at me. “I’m sure they anticipated we would. For other reasons.”

I blushed. Iron Bull was still giving me crap for _the Ice Wall Incident_ , as I’d begun thinking of it.

“Right.” I tucked my hair behind an ear.

He met my eyes, a slow pleased smile on his lips, before he kissed my temple and stood to go.

 

\---

 

Solas' thumb worried at the back of my hand as he led me to the Fade's interpretation of the ruins we had seen earlier. Only now they were not simply outlined hints of buildings, but a full town. The architecture was beautiful - curving lines and glittering glass. In the center was a spire like a jagged crystalline spear stabbing at the sky.

"It's beautiful." I beamed up at him, but he only winced a smile in return. ‎"What's wrong?"

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, not meeting my eyes. "Let's get closer."

I had seen Solas angry, wistful, affectionate, mourning. I had seen Solas about to commit murder. I had seen him proud and affronted and weary and laughing.

I had never seen him scared.

Even when we faced the Nightmare, he had been steady, determined.

But the way he hunched his shoulders now, the way his thumb was restless on my hand, and the nervous dart of his eyes as we neared the memory of the village... _he's afraid_.

For a second, ‎I reached for a staff that wasn't there. _Solas would never put me in danger. If he's worried, it's for another reason._

“Solas?” I used our joined hands to tug him closer to me, but he didn’t look up. “Fennec?”

A reflexive smile, an unbidden thing, curled his lips. His shoulders relaxed a fraction.

As we neared the village, I saw people. Elves. They were taller, faces unmarked, all wearing similarly adorned clothing in dark reds, golds, and browns. Many had their hair braided or corded in intricate patterns, both the women and the men. Only the children’s hair was loose, fluttering in the wind as they ran between the semi-translucent arcs that made up the outer courtyard of each building. Smooth glass pieces made up multicolored mosaics that lined the walkways of pure white stone. Everywhere I looked was another detail, another delicate wonder.

“Wow,” I breathed, seeing what looked like rose-colored mineral veins threading through opaque white glass. The material was used to make a bridge to an upper walkway. Some young men were standing around beneath it, talking and looking over their shoulders to where four young women sat on a low wall, a picnic lunch between them.

The two groups make eyes at each other, whispering amongst themselves. It was a charming picture.

I nearly asked why he was showing me this, when a new character entered the scene.

A skinny boy – maybe sixteen if he was a day – all angles, with reddish-brown dreadlocks tied back from his face with a leather cord. His freckles were dark, covering his cheeks and his shoulders, bare beneath the tight-fitting brown vest he wore. He walked with purpose, chin tilted up.

The girls immediately lost interest in the other boys, their eyes swiveling to the newcomer with palpable interest.

_The sharp angle of his cheekbones looks familiar._

“Fen!” Shouts one of the braver girls, waving.

I gasp.

Solas’ hold on my hand tightens.

I want to see the expression on his face but I can’t stop watching the young man in the memory. He looks annoyed at the girls, but quickly covers it with a bravado that looks so unnatural on Solas’ – _Fen’s_ – face.

Fen crosses his arms as he steps to the girls, body angled so they know he doesn’t really want to talk to them. All four women make a semi-circle around him, and they all begin speaking at once.

In Elvish.

And I barely understand a word.

“Solas!” I am breathless.

He draws his thumb over my knuckles. “They’re not saying anything important. And-“ Fen responds to the girls, tossing his head back so the beads on the ends of his dreads clatter together. “-I am being a bit of an ass to them.”

“Is this real?” I ask, then give my head a shake. “Is that really you?” I can’t tear my eyes from Fen as he passes the girls, glares at the boys, who all shoot daggers at his back as he walks away.

“It is.” When Fen passes us, he disappears. “This isn’t my memory. It belongs to one of the boys.” He gestures at the two groups who have now joined together, talking animatedly amongst themselves. “The first time he had courage enough to speak to the love of his life.”

I turned then, finally, to see Solas. His face was closed, blank. Eyes waiting and wary.

In my mind, I hear his voice, something he said in Haven. _Spires of crystal twining through the branches, palaces floating among the clouds_. I look up, seeing the jagged spear of glass in the center of the town.

The ruins were barely knee-high. They were _ancient_.

 _Fen_ was ancient. He spoke a language that only slightly resembled the one I knew.

My mind stumbled away from the next connection, the obvious one, and instead retreated into humor.

“You had hair!” I grin at him.

He lets out a soft laugh. “Yes.” But he’s still searching my face for a reaction.

“Tell me what I just saw.” There’s frustration in my voice that I try to reign back. “Don’t make me guess.”

Solas closes his eyes, visibly gathering his strength. When he opens them, he says, “This place… it is a part of Elvhenan.”

I nod slowly.

“It isn’t Arlathan, not even close. It was a small village. Quiet, remote.” He looks up at the central spire and I see something tender cross his face. “But still more beautiful than any city you would see today.”

At some point during the memory, I had let go of Solas’ hand, and I gently took it again.

“So all those things you told me about the ancient Elves, about the magic… you didn’t see it in the Fade.”

“No.”

“You…” I didn’t want to say it. It sounded ridiculous. My mind resisted the idea so _strongly_.

“I was there.”

I drew in a sharp breath. _There it is. The truth._

“How old are you?” I looked at him, at the light freckles on his nose and the soft curl of his eyelashes. “I always thought you were… I don’t know… something like forty.”

“I’m not even sure how old I am anymore.”

“So…” I rubbed at my forehead with my other hand. “Are you like… Abelas, then? The sentinels?”

He snorts. “Not at all.” But then he gives a slow nod of his own. “And... yes, if it helps to think of me that way. You know of uthenera, yes?”

I blinked rapidly, trying to follow. “Yes?”

“He and I, and all the sentinels, I would think, were in a sleep state. He slept in wait for when Mythal would call for him, or her temple defiled. I… I slept because I was tired. I needed to recover.”

“From what?”

He lowered his eyes. “From an arrogant young man’s mistake.”

I filed that away for later. For now, I was still trying to understand. Or really, trying to convince myself that it was real. “You’re one of the ancient elves.”

He nodded.

“And you…” I blinked. “You spend your time.. what? Painting my walls? Letting me drag you around the ass-end of Thedas? Running errands for people?”

Solas opened his mouth to speak, but laughed instead, startled and honest and open and _Creators_ , it was beautiful. His shoulders relaxed, tension easing out of him like water from a wrung cloth. “Ma vhenan.” He wrapped an arm around me, bent his face to my neck. “You continue to surprise me.”

My voice went high and a little hysterical. “I lectured an ancient elf about our culture! We let them introduce you to the Orlesian court as my serving man!” I was babbling. “I made you help me chase a druffalo back home!”

I could feel his smile against my skin. “Made me kill a demon-possessed sheep as well, if I recall correctly.”

Pulling myself out of his arms, I buried my face in my hands, groaning.

“That sheep was dangerous, vhenan,” he teases. “We couldn’t just let it go.”

“You’re not helping.”

He takes me by the hips, folding his arms around my waist. “I’m helping you save the world from Corypheus, from a future of red lyrium and death. That seems an appropriate use of my time. At least in my opinion.”

The hands resting at my sides, the voice in my ear, the lips brushing my temple… _what would an ancient elf want with me?_

“I must seem like such a child to you.”

Solas' brow furrows and he tilts my chin up to look him in the eye. “Most definitely not.”

The look on his face... I feel it in every part of me.

But his eyes go sad, drifting to that darker place, and he pulls away from me, still touching me, still holding me, but distant now.

Affection rises in my heart. _I can handle this,_ I think. H _e was so afraid to tell me, but he did. He trusted me._ The affection doubles. _I can handle his truth. I can be what he needs._

I stand on my toes, tug his face down to mine and kiss him, long and deep, nearly climbing him as I wrap my arms around his shoulders, pull him closer, closer to me. We topple against a wall, me pushing him this time, holding him in place with my hips.

“Vhenan,” he pushes me back. “I'm sorry. We should talk.” 

“I'm fine, Solas.” I say, heart overflowing. “You trusted me with... with this.” I leaned back, looked up at that tall spire. “With _you._ ” 

His eyes grew soft and warm, one hand trailing down my face. “I lied to you.”

“Did you?” I tilt my head. “Did you ever tell me a deliberate lie?”

His eyes fall. “I misled you.”

I placed a kiss to his nose. “I understand why you would. If you had been honest, told me everything, would I have believed you? I would have written you off as a lunatic. Besides,” another kiss, closer to his lips. “It's not like you were hiding some great, horrible thing. This... this is beautiful.”

Solas' hands on my hips force me roughly back, startling me into drawing my hands away from him.

“Vhenan.” He doesn't meet my eyes, voice rough. “There's more.”

I swallow, a cold creeping hand of fear drawing its nails down my spine, waiting for him to continue.

He turns away from me, his hands outstretched, and closes his eyes, turning his face aside as if the scene will burn him as it shifts, bending to his will. The images flickered fast as he pulled the memory from the Fade, shaping around his mind.

I see beauty and life and destruction and fire, iron chains and a great battle. Quick and violent, I see great red eyes in a smoke-dark face like an enormous beast snarling at a dragon made of light, both creatures made of mana, ripping at each other's throats until they collide with the spire in the center of the town and a thundering crack like standing too close to lightning and the ground quakes and a fierce stabbing pain in my hand as-

“Solas!” I sit up on the grass, the mark on my hand so bright I can see him clearly. “Solas, wake up, I-” I scream at the pain snaking up the bones on my wrist.

The scream finally rouses him, glassy-eyed but frantic. “What is it?”

“What did you do?” I grind my teeth.

“This isn't me. This isn't because of the Fade.”

“What is it?” My throat breaks on the words as I curl myself around my fist, biting my lip hard enough to bleed. “What is happening?”

Suddenly the sky rips open, green lightning arcing out from the Breach, crackling through the clouds.

Solas stands, helping me to my feet. “We need to go.”


	52. Harel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Harel" is the Elven word for "horrible, frightening, causing fear." As if you were not aware of that.

Solas and I hobbled back to the group, him half carrying me. My screaming brought Iron Bull to my rescue long before we reached them, and he carried me the rest of the way.

“Maker’s balls. Why is she screaming?” Blackwall shouted over my voice.

“Sorry! Sorry, I-“ I groaned again, biting the palm of my hand to muffle my cries.

“It’s the anchor,” said Solas, grabbing our things and loading them onto my hart. “We have to get back to Skyhold.”

“No shit.” Iron Bull stood to the side as the others quickly packed us, cradling me in his arms. “Have you seen the sky?”

A flicker of green lightning overhead as we all glanced up at the rift, blown open wide.

I wailed.

Solas climbed up on the mount and held out his arms to Bull. “Give her here. You two pack the rest of camp and follow.”

I was shuffled between the two men, the giant Qunari being gentle with me as he made sure all my limbs were tucked neatly into place. Solas had one arm around me to hold me steady.

“Here.” Bull grabbed something from his bag and handed it to me. “Bite down on this. It will help.”

I stared at the leather wrap and winced out a laugh. “Offering me your freaky sex toys now, Bull? How kind.”

Blackwall huffed. “At least she’s still with us enough to make bad jokes.”

“We’ll see you back at Skyhold.” With that, Solas steered my hart away from camp and urged her into her fastest speed.

 

\---

 

The second night, Solas gave me a strong sleeping draught that had me out cold in minutes despite my pain. I woke two days later with a shout, curled in the saddle against his chest.

“Sleep well?” Solas asked. His voice was rough and there were dark circles under his eyes.

It occurred to me that I had never seen him _sleep deprived_ until that very moment.

“I-“ I gasped in pain. “It still hurts.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the leather strap Bull had given us. I had been chewing at it ruthlessly during that first night and my jaw still ached with it. I took it into my lap but didn’t use it.

“You need to rest,” I said.

“You need to get to Skyhold.”

“Solas.”

“If it’s spreading again, it could kill you. I’ve done what I can for you with our limited supplies, but the faster we get you to Skyhold, the sooner I can help you.”

“And how will you help me if you collapse from exhaustion?”

He frowned deeper but said nothing.

I looked up and saw the roiling green sky over the curves of his face. “The breach is active again. What does that mean?”

“It means Corypheus has amassed enough power to attempt his foolish plan again.”

 

\---

 

The pain stopped as quickly as it started, leaving me gasping. All my muscles tentatively relaxed, waiting for the pain to strike again, but it didn’t.

Assuming I was out of danger for the time being was the only way I convinced Solas to stop and sleep.

We were still two days from Skyhold, but at least now he was stopping regularly.

 

\--- 

 

The second night of regular rest, with their arrival at Skyhold likely happening the next day, Lahria asked him about what he’d showed her in the Fade.

And he, of course, had dodged her questions.

"Solas-"

"You need to rest and save your strength for-"

"I couldn't sleep if my life depended on it. Your sleeping draughts work too well, and now I’m wide awake." Lahria scowled as he continued to arrange their sleeping mats. "What were you going to tell me before?"

He hesitated, hands going still. "It's of no importance."

She took advantage of his position, kneeling as he was, and dropped into his lap, straddling him. "Fennec." Her voice was gentle _. I should never have_ _given_ _her that_ , he thought. _It gives her so much power over me, and she has enough already_. "It _is_ important." 

Solas kept his eyes down, dark lashes against his freckles. "Please, vhenan." _This is almost over. Just stay with me a little longer and then you will see; you will know everything. Let me have you for what time is left._

She bumped his nose with her own and imitated his cadence. " _Please, vhenan_. Tell me."

He drew a shaking breath, but said nothing. 

Lahria pressed a gentle kiss below his eye, then another on his other cheek. “Ma’arlath, Solas.”

She said his name with the proper accent when she was speaking the language of the People. It pulled his heart deep into hers, drowned him _. I am lost_ , he thought, grinning slightly and letting his forehead rest against hers. _She has taken me and I am lost_.

“Lahria.” He said her name with the proper accent, too, emphasizing the long _ah_ , flicking his tongue over the _r_. She had an old name, one he hadn’t heard for centuries. But it had been common, once, like magic and spirits and everything he’d ever loved. Her name wedged a piece of the past inside of her. _Like everything about her_ , he thought. _The ancient and powerful mixing with the young and naïve. Her optimism and laughter mingling with wisdom and careful thought_. “Vhenan,” he breathed. “You are… everything.”

“Everything?” She smirked. “That’s a tall order.”

 _You’re **my** everything_. He squeezed her sides gently, locking his fingers at the small of her back.

“Ma’arlath, Solas.” She said it again, emphasizing the words. “Nothing you could tell me would make me stop.”

He flinched, and he felt her pull away, body heat fading, leaving him cold.

“Unless…” Her tone was wary. “Does it have something to do with me? Were you trying to… end things, or-”

“No.” He tugged her forward. “It’s not about you.”

She kissed his forehead. "Solas." Back to the common pronunciation. Muted _o_ and muffled _a_ \- the human _a_. He ached to hear it. ‎ _This is why, vhenan_ , he thought. _This is why._  

"I'm not going to push you." The way she held him - _eons and ages and had anyone ever held him like that –_ wrapping herself around him, as much of her as possible touching as much of him, gentle but never letting go, slow movements and so warm. ‎"But just... this secret you’re carrying. It has to do with your past. I’m not going to tell you that your past doesn’t matter – because it does – but you have to know that I’m far more interested in who you are now. Your actions make who you are, your choices and decisions and your willingness to stay with me and help me fight this fight. Your past is important because it made you who you are, but the Solas I love is the one here, now.”

He had closed his eyes as she spoke, and when she stopped, he realized he had been shaking his head.

“When have I _ever_ judged anyone by their past? Cole was a murderer, so was Blackwall. You saw me at the trials for Alexius, the Wardens. Anders. Even Cullen-“ She swallowed. “Cullen has a history of hating mages and working to keep them oppressed. But that isn’t who he is _now_. None of their pasts are who they are _now_. And knowing who they used to be doesn’t change the relationship I have with them now.”

Solas opened his mouth to protest, but she laid a finger on his lips.

“How much truer would that be with someone I loved? If someone I loved shared his burden with me – let me see the reason for that sorrow I can feel in him – why would I condemn him for it?”

He blinked and a hot tear ran down his cheek. She gently wiped it away but kept her hand on his face.

“Ma’arlath, Solas,” she whispered. “I’m not going to demand that you tell me. But you have to know– if whatever you’re not telling me doesn’t change your feelings for me, doesn’t put anyone I care about in danger, and doesn’t keep you from staying by my side in this, then...” Lahria lowered her hand, fingertips down his throat to rest over his chest. “I would still love you, Solas.”

Solas inhaled deeply. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“Between bouts of screaming in pain, yes.” I smiled.

Solas shifted her off his lap and settled onto the sleeping mat, holding his hand out, palm up. When he spoke, his voice was rough with emotion. “Meet me in the Fade?” Still, it came out like a question.

_Things have always been easier for me in the Fade._

Lahria smiled and placed her hand in his. “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *updates exactly 9000 years later* 
> 
> I promise I'm not drawing out his confession because I like teasing you. I'm drawing it out because I feel like it's taking a LOT for Solas to get there, emotionally. He keeps working himself to tell her but chickening out because that's kind of _his thing_.


	53. Harillen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harillen – the elven word for “opposition.” 
> 
> I really hope this was worth the wait. 52 chapters of wait, lol. I hope it's everything you wanted it to be.

The fade is dark. Lush emerald greens and shifting shadows play against the hillside where we'd made our camp in the real world.

My eyes open to the strange stars of the dreamworld, the Black City visible only as an absence of stars.

“Solas?” I called, sitting up, sensing him with my feelings and calling him with my memories of him just moments ago before we fell asleep in each other's arms. _The tremble in his voice and the crease of his brows when she held him. The shaking of his head. The reluctance and the longing and the sorrow._

“I'm here, vhenan.” His voice was warm, but when I turned to him, he wouldn't face me, choosing to stare at the flat dark plains of the fade.

I turned and settled on my knees before him, and stayed quiet.

“Ages ago, in Arlathan,” he started, then stopped for breath. “The world was like this.” He waved a hand through the air and the magic there rippled like heat waves above hot stone. “Magic in the very air we breathed.”

I nodded, but said nothing.

Solas watched his own hand move through the magic-laced air. “I've told you of this, but... you can't imagine it. Magic wasn't feared. It wasn't a tool. You didn't have to strive after it, or spend all your energy just to draw enough of it to you to accomplish anything. It was simply... there. Everywhere.”

He drew a shaking breath.

“But there have always been those with more power than the rest.”

_While one good woman might turn away from the temptation of power, no group has ever done so._

“There were abuses, and fear of worse, so a council was formed." He took another deep breath, weaving his fingers through the grass like he had the air. "A council of nine."

Solas lifted his eyes to mine, a brief flicker to see my reaction. I was so struck by the vulnerability in that look - something I hadn't seen since he removed my vallaslin - that I failed to react to his statement.

“They were to be guardians, gatekeepers of power. Each held a different domain. The idea was to hold each other accountable. Nothing could be decided without a majority voting in its favor, so no true corruption could ever take hold.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “It was a noble idea, the Council. Nine of the most powerful magic users out of all of the People. Nine bright, fierce, good men and women who wanted to end corruption and darkness at its root.”

As the pieces slotted into place in my mind, Solas spoke the names I knew by heart.

“June, Falon'din, Elgar'nan, Sylaise...” He spoke the names like he was giving a litany of the dead.

I finished for him. “Dirthamen, Andruil, Ghilan'nain, Mythal, and Fen-”

My throat went dry.

Solas continued, speaking quickly now.

“But all of them fell, in the end. They conquered their own people, pitted the rich and powerful against each other, clamoring for their favor in order to gain _more_ power, _more_ riches. They-” He swallowed. “The vallaslin. Blood writing. Do you know why it's called that?”

“Because of the painful process, the blood that runs down your face as the marks are-”

“No.” His eyes were fierce, as if he could still see exactly what he was describing. “It was blood magic. It served two purposes – to mark slaves, but also... The spell used during the marking caused the magic power and life energy of that person to flow continuously to whichever council member it was dedicated to.”

I touched my face where my marks used to be. “So you're saying... mine were to honor Mythal. Had it been done in Arlathan-”

“You would not be the mage you are today. Not by half. All your power and effort and passion would have poured straight to her. Mythal.” He swallowed and made a conscious effort to relax his shoulders and his clenched fists. “Mythal never took slaves, only willing servants. That was a fine line she danced across on a daily basis, but she made some effort.” His voice was acid. “There's that at least.”

I remembered Mythal's face as she spoke to Morrigan. _The choice was always yours. You were never in any danger from me._

And I remembered Abelas. _Fen'Harel had nothing to do with her murder._

“Solas-”

He held up a hand. “ _Please_.” There was agony in that word. “Let me finish.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, eyes riveted on his face. _Solas_.

“It was a nightmare. Layers of corruption on top of our festering core of nine, each using their foci to absorb the energy of all those they had enslaved. Mythal worked to fight it, using her influence and power to reign in the others when they went too far. But she and I never agreed on what _too far_ meant.”

_She and I._

I took in a quiet gasp.

He didn't seem to notice his slip.

“There was a resistence movement. Underground, secret. Small groups working to help the slaves escape, or help them rewrite their vallaslin, diverting the power from their oppressors, directing it to the foci of the one who wanted to help them. Even members of the rich and powerful who were terrified by the darkness the rest of the council were dabbling in... they'd come and offer their magic, their spirits, their energy.”

He curved his fingers around his palm and lifted it, staring at the empty space his hands created, as if he were holding an invisible ball. “Countless lives in the palm of your hand. The weight of trust. Faith. All that hope. That you will be the one who saves them.”

Solas closed his eyes, dark lashes resting on his freckles.

The hand holding the invisible orb turned into a fist.

“But the rest of the council knew. They'd let it go, at first, a minor irritation.” He chuckled, shook his head, a bitter snarl on his lips. “They spread rumors to try to discredit me. Wove fear around the truth of what the vallaslin actually were, but claimed I was the one doing it. Claimed I was the only one snatching children from their mothers and sacrificing them for their own power. Claimed I was the one slaughtering the families of the slaves who had escaped, or worked against them. Claimed I was spreading lies about their _gods_ , their _Creators_ , that I was a dark, creeping thing come to pervert the truth, and I-”

He glanced up to see my eyes, wide, my mouth parted.

We stared at each other, each holding our breath.

Solas dropped his eyes to his hands.

“They let it go too long. Let the power of all that opposition – not just me. But the anger and resentment, the truly willing sacrifices of people who had seen their lives burn down around them for being born with less. They let it swell until it became a force to be reckoned with, until it grew far beyond their control.”

His hands began to shake.

“They couldn't know for sure which of their marked I had rewritten, which of their prostrating nobility had come to my hall in the dead of night to offer themselves as living sacrifices. So they-” His voice broke.

I placed one of my hands over his, warm against the cold of his knuckles. He looked into my face and I drew a thumb across the back of his hand, saying nothing.

Solas continued, eyes meeting mine.

“They killed them all when they knew what I was planning. Blood in the streets. One enormous ritual, a last grab for power to try and stop me. I wasn't ready. I had to throw everything I had in one final desparate attempt to enact my plan. My own power and that of everyone who had given themselves to the cause becuase I told them I could stop them.”

His eyes were filling with tears. “I couldn't stop them, Lahria. Each person who gave themselves to my plan – they died. Their families died. Immortal lives. People who should never have died cut down because they believed I would protect them.”

One tear, then another. “I was just as selfish and as power-hungry as the rest. As they died, I was angry at the loss of power, at the draining of energy and magic when I needed it most. I didn't feel sorrow for the loss of life – _I was aggravated at the loss of power._ ” His voice was rising, taking a biting edge, tears running freely. “They died believing I could save them, and I spent their last moments hating them for not being stronger.” He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. Meeting my eyes. Facing me. “In the end, I had to use my own strength – nearly all of it. I pushed myself, drawing on wells of power until I ran dry. But I did it. I accomplished _my great plan_.” He bared his teeth as he said it. “All those lives lost. Arlathan – lost. The magic – lost. But I did it. And it worked. No more Elven gods.”

His eyes slipped from mine, resting on our joined hands, the energy leeching out of him.

 _You didn't do it to be right,_ Cole had said once. _You did it to help them._

Softly, I said. “Did what?”

With his other hand, he waved at the Fade. “This.”

“This?” I frowned.

“The veil. Gathering up the magic and putting it elsewhere. Effectively taking magic out of the equation, leaving the People to rely on their own strengths without using magic to entrap others.” He looked around at the Fade. “All that magic in one place, separated from reality – it became something else entirely, something I had never expected. In that, the Fade made itself.” The spark of the scholar in his eye before he refocused on our conversation. “I thought – if magic was limited in its use, people would no longer be able to use it to destroy each other.”

I opened my mouth, but he stopped me.

“I know. I was wrong. Arlathan was destroyed, the People scattered to the wind, overtaken by kingdoms who adapted to the lack of pervasive magic much better than they could. They're still slaves, just to new masters. Tevinter, poverty, oppression, ignorance.” He bit off each word. “I was exhausted after what I had done. It took ages to recover. And when I did, when I saw what my actions led to...”

_What if you wake up to discover everything was worse than it was before._

In the wake of his passionate explanation, his head was bowing over our hands, sinking into himself. His palm was open on his knee, the other so still under mine.

He stayed like that for several moments, the picture of supplication.

_Render your judgment, Inquisitor._

“You are Fen'Harel.” I said.

His fingers jerked above his open palm, but stilled again.

“Yes.”

I had understood his place in the story as he spoke, but... _Fen'Harel_.

“All my life, I have been taught to fear you.”

Another twitch of his hand.

“Yes.”

I rested my other hand on his open hand. His fingers flexed to hold mine, but laid still. I traced the lines of his palm with my middle fingertip.

“I'm going to need time to process everything,” I said quietly.

He nodded. “Of course.” His voice was calm resolve, stripped of emotion.

“Solas.” Mine was not.

He lifted his head, blue-grey eyes catching mine, earnest and worried.

“It's a lot to take in, and I'm going to have a hundred questions, but-” His truth. His horrible, beautiful truth. In my hands. Laid at my feet. All that sorrow finally had a name. My chest tightened, throat thick as I said, “Ma serannas, ma'lath. For telling me. For trusting me. For letting me see and know you. Finally, _you_.” I slid my hands up his arms, leaning forward. “Solas. Ma'arlath, Solas.”

Widening eyes in the space of a breath and then he was pulling me to him, into his lap, hands on my face. “Then...?”

“It's a lot,” I acknowledged, nodding. “But it's yours. And you're mine.”

His grip on my body strengthened, hand sliding into my hair as he brought me to his mouth in a kiss that shook with the sound of the cry ripping through his chest – loud and plaintive and breaking through him, then through me. He kissed me hard, mouth hot against mine, hand fisting in the back of my shirt. Nails on my scalp as he deepened the kiss, shoulders shaking.

I pulled back, gasping for air. “Solas.”

“Apologies.” He pressed his lips to my neck instead. “You should take it back.” Hot breath on my jaw. “I don't deserve you. Your touch. Your gaze. Your trust. Your love.” Each spoken in a kiss on my skin. “Take it back.” He roughly tugged my shirt aside so he could rake his lips along the line of my shoulder. “Take it back before I take you at your word. Before I believe you.”

I shoved him hard, fists on his chest, working my hips to straddle him as I pushed him to the grass. “Solas.” My voice was strong. “Wake up.”

“I-”

“Wake. Up.”

I leaned my full weight on him, pinning him to the ground, my arms clutching at his. I threw myself into consciousness, dragging him with me back into reality. We crashed through the veil, this world-changing spellwork of his creation, and slammed into our bodies back in reality – spirit and body reunited.

Solas woke gasping. "Vhenan, what-"

I had fallen asleep with my head on his shoulder, hand on his heart.

I was groggy with sleep, with the disconnect between the Fade and the waking world, but my heart was pounding just as loud here as it had been there.

With the same speed and determination transferring to my waking self, I fit one hand in his above his head, the other sliding down his chest as I kissed his jaw, imitating his actions in the Fade.

"Let me love you," I whispered against the skin of his throat. “I won't take it back.” I curled around him, arm over his stomach, hips pressed to his side. “My touch. My trust. My love. I'm giving it to you. Have given it.” I nuzzled him with my nose, letting my breath wash over the sensitive shell of his ear. “I'm in love with you, Solas. Deeply, truly in love with you.”

I felt the muscles beneath my lips as he swallows. Felt the trembling of his breath beneath my hand.

“Let me love you,” I said again.

"Vhenan," his voice was rough. "I've been trying to let myself be loved by you since the day you kissed me in the fade."

A kiss, just below his ear. "And now?”

Deep breaths that shook his entire frame.

“Vhenan, please.” His voice cracked, high and plaintive. “Please.” I felt one cold tear slide down his temple to brush the tip of my nose. A hoarse whisper. “All I want is for you to love me.”

I wonder if I'm pushing too hard, and soften my advance, tilting his face toward me for a soft, gentle kiss. “Ar lath ma, Solas. I do love you.”

I've never seen him look so shattered, eyes so blue. “Please.”

Another lingering kiss. _He has to stop flinching away like a startled halla, afraid I'll suddenly snatch all my affection away_. I pull back to see his face.

“Ar lath ma, Solas.” I kiss his freckled cheek, beneath his eye, gritty with salt and tears.

His hand flexes against my hip.

I move to his other cheek, another kiss beneath his other eye. “Ar lath ma, Fennec.”

A little gasp, his lips parting.

I drop to his ear, where I was before, and press a warm, slow kiss to the corner of his jaw. “Ar lath ma, Fen.”

Solas groans soft, short, his hand a fest against me, body straining under me as I lean over him, let my cheek brush against his.

And I kiss him, eyes closed, pouring meaning into the press of lips to his jaw, then breathe.

“Ar lath ma, Fen'Harel.”


	54. Summary of the End

**It's time I own up to the fact that I'm never going to finish this fic, and definitely won't finish the sequel I had prepared. Given the Trespasser DLC that's coming out, my version of "what happens after" is about to be rendered moot anyway. :P**

So I'm going to give you a quick summary of what the ending to this fic was going to be, some deleted scenes/bits that didn't make it in, and then the last chapter will be my outline for the sequel (in which Lahria has a baby!). 

I'm sorry to not fully finish it, but I feel like... the emotional issues in their relationship(s) were resolved, and all that was left, really, was the big final battle. So... n_n;; I'm sorry!

(If you are at all interested - I started working on original fiction instead of fanfics, and submitting things places. I was accepted two places! I have a poem coming out in Polychrome Ink and a short story about elderly lesbian dragons coming out in Wings of Renewal, a solarpunk dragon anthology. Both will be out in October. But... basically, I've been SUPER WRAPPED UP in original work and my fanfics all kind of got put on hold. This one is the only one left that wasn't finished. Hopefully this ties up loose ends, even if it's not the best it could be.)

* * *

**Chapter 54**

 

Lahria and Solas have ALL THE SEX. Up until this point, they've had sex, but it was all oral or frottage and it was all about Lahria's orgasms. Solas felt like letting her pleasure him would be taking advantage, since she didn't know the truth about him. Now that she knows the truth, the two finally bang.

 

**Chapter 55**

 

Morning after, they wake up and begin travelling. This little bit is the only part I had written of it:

 

I woke to the vision of his smile, to warmth in his eyes. He drew a hand through my hair.

"Good morning, ma vhenan."

I smiled back. 

As he stood, his back to me, sliding the rough fabric of his tunic over his head, I felt the weight of what happened last night. I used to measure the distance between us in years, then, after his first revelation, I measured it in ages. Now...

_You just bedded a deity._

My cheeks burned. _Creators take me._

A thought sprang from the same wicked place the first had. _One of them just did._

I groaned, throwing my face into my hands and bending to press my head into the mattress.

"Lahria?" Solas asked, confusion in his tone.

_Gods, don't ask me what I'm thinking._

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I mumble against the blanket.

A light chuckle and a hand on my bare back, fingertips trailing light designs there.

 _This is… sacrilege_. The Chantry word set off another thought, and I began laughing – dark laughter, a close cousin to cackling.

Solas’ hand went still and I sat up, laughing loud, unable to stop.

“What-“

“The _Herald of Andraste,"_ I gasped between laughter. "And _Fen’Harel_.”

The ancient deity in question twitched his lips, trying not to smile. "I have to say this isn't the first time that has crossed my mind."

 

**Chapter 56**

 

I didn't like the ending to Inquisition, so in my version, Corypheus actually attacks Skyhold. GIANT EPIC BATTLE ENSUES. There's a sweet scene where Cullen grabs her in the middle of the battle because he hasn't seen her in days and the end is nigh and he kisses her fiercely and then lets her go, trusting Solas to watch her back.

Corypheus is obvsly defeated. Solas does his "lol k bye" scene but Lahria doesn't 100% get that he's gone for good now. 

 

**Chapter 57**

 

They have the party, the final goodbye, and Lahria keeps expecting him to show up like he did after Wisdom died. Cullen is in her room, in her bed, being sweet to her. He reminds her that he is there, that she is never alone, and that he loves her.

Days pass and Solas doesn’t show. Lahria's nervous and worried. Leliana delivers her report about the village in the north that Solas had told her was his hometown, and Larhia asks where it was, show her on the map, and Leliana does. It’s the same place he took her in the Fade. She runs to Cullen, knowing he was gone, he left, it’s over, and she cries in Cullen’s arms.

**Chapter 58**

 

Solas wandering alone, longing, the voices of three gods warring inside of him. He looks at the sky, imagines Lahria loved and warm and safe in Skyhold, and steps into the deep roads. (Because in my opinion, pre-Trespasser DLC announcement, Solas' plan was to go into the deep roads and do something with the Old Gods)

* * *

 

**Some very short deleted scenes**

 

“But… din’adar?” I tug his face up to look at me. “Solas, telling me I make you want to die is not-“

“That’s not what I said.”

“Then tell me.”

He sighs. “You make me want to be something I’m not. Something better.”

 

\--- 

 

"But... I must seem like such a child to you."

He looks at me, brows lifted slightly, and his voice dripped with suggestion. “Definitely not.”

I make an exasperated noise worthy of Cassandra. “Can you be serious? I’ve never seen you so cavalier about anything in your life.” I wince when I hear my own words. _Not that I have even seen the tiniest fraction of that life._

“My apologies.” There is a little grin curling up his lips and I suddenly realize that he is happy, relieved. He’s movements are easy. His eyes are dancing.

I don’t know if it’s because we’re standing in his home town, or having one other person share his secret, but he’s lighter than I’ve ever seen him.

I watch his face as he watches mine. 

 

\--- 

 

**(at one point, I was going to have some scenes from Solas' POV. Eh. Didn't happen. But the two below were good enough to save)**

 

Lavellan had been a distraction for weeks - a pleasant, soft spot in his life at Haven. The delicacy of her movements, her single-minded focus in battle, the playful lilt in her voice as she peppered him with questions... was she special? Or had he just lived such a solitary life for so long, he forgot what it felt like to connect with someone?

“Solas!” She did a half-jog across the snow to him, and his heart gave a shudder.

_Definitely special._

 

\--- 

 

“I can't. Please, Vhenan.”

He walked away from her. Left her alone. _Nadas_ , he thought. _Inevitable_. This was where that kiss in the Fade was always taking them.

_Knowing something will happen never makes it easier._

* * *

 

Next chapter for the outline to the sequel, which does include some fully-fleshed-out scenes. 


	55. Atisha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! The sequel. It's partly outlined, partly a smattering of scenes. Enjoy? :) 
> 
> (Note: this is all directly copied from my file... so the outline is legit my outline haha. Excuse the way I outline, please!)

**Chapter 1**

_She stares at the painting Solas left in his room. Weeks pass. Cullen says now that they have time, maybe she’d want to visit his sister. She agrees._

\--- 

When Solas had told me he would be leaving “after we defeat Corypheus,” I had not expected he would literally walk away from the battle and not come back. I especially hadn’t expected he wouldn’t say goodbye.

_What we had was real._

Then why didn’t you say goodbye?

**Chapter 2**

_Attempts to call Solas in dreams, but he never answers. She breaks down, wakes up sobbing in Cullen's arms._

\--- 

I had tried calling him the same way I had before, but it didn’t work. I had tried mixing my old call with what I knew of him now – ancient, weary, memories of something beautiful, longing and loss shrouding his view of the world as it was. I threw in what I knew of him as a child, as a young man – nothing seemed to work. I called him with the love I had for him, the memories of warm nights pressed into his heartbeat. I called him with how badly I missed him. I called him with every name I knew for him.

He never came.

Maybe he’s sleeping at different times, now. Maybe he’s too far away… the Fade does reflect physical distance. Maybe I’m not strong enough to call him – he said I never pulled him to me, he always had to come willing.

_So why isn’t he coming willing now?_

_Why hasn’t he sought me out?_

_No matter what he’s doing or why he had to leave, why wouldn’t he visit me in my dreams?_

_Why didn’t he say goodbye?_

I wasn’t aware that I was crying, that my entire body was tense and racked with sobs until I felt warm arms around me and the brush of stubble against my face as Cullen held me close.

“Lahria,” he breathed against my neck, wiping my tears with his callused fingertips. “I’m so sorry.”

I spun so I could grab him around the waist and cry against his chest. “He didn’t say goodbye.” I kept repeating it. “He just left. He didn’t say goodbye, and I don’t know where he is. I didn’t think he would just leave like this.”

“Neither did I,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. I pulled away to look at his face and saw his jaw set, his brow furrowed.

“Cullen-“

“It’s not my place, but… if he cared for you as deeply as I thought he did, as I  _saw_  that he did… I don’t understand how he could leave you. I certainly couldn’t. I wouldn’t.”

A fresh wave of sobbing coursed through me at his words, and a warmth, too. Stability, as I gripped the folds of Cullen’s soft shirt and breathed him in.  _I certainly couldn’t. Wouldn’t_. Cullen never would.

**Chapter 3**

She and Cullen attend Cassandra’s coronation(!? Thing??) to become the next Divine which is happening in Orlais. He’s sneakily arranged for a week off for them. “You’ve earned it,” he says. So they go to visit his family.

**Chapter 4**

Family visit. “This is the longest I’ve ever seen you without your armor.”

**Chapter 5**

His nephew wants to be a templar “just like you!” Cullen’s freaking out so Lahria takes over the conversation, tells him he should be an inquisition soldier instead.

**Chapter 6**

Cullen fucks her slow and earnest.

**Chapter 7**

They return to skyhold and Lahria’s nervous. Petrified. It’s been two months since she’d had her period. Shit. Shiiiiiiiiit shit shit shit. She asks the healers if there’s a way to know for sure. They’re like “2 months? Yeah. We’re pretty sure.”

**Chapter 8**

She tells Cullen. And tells him that it might not be his. It was only once with Solas but… it could not be his. Cullen’s happy. Since seeing his family he has been revisiting old dreams of having a family. He says he’ll marry her and she’s like. No. don’t make that decision now, because of this. Marry me because you want to, not out of obligation. He says it wouldn’t be but she won’t hear of it. Once the baby is born, you can think about it then.

**Chapter 9**

Maybe a one-chapter summary of her being preggers lol. I have no idea what pregnancy looks like. COUGH.

**Chapter 10**

The baby is born, Cole and the healers deliver it lololol. Cullen paces outside. They tell him to come in and he finds Lahria curled around the child, sobbing. Cullen wraps his arms around her, what’s wrong. She pulls away and he sees the baby’s ears, the baby’s dark grey eyes. “I wanted her to be yours,” she tells him. He says “She is mine.” … “No, Cullen.” He was gonna make her spell it out. “If we had a child, she would be human, not-“ Cullen says again, “She’s mine, Lahria. If you want her to be. If you’ll… have me.“ … “You don’t have to do this.” … “I want this. I want a family with you.” They name her Atisha, meaning peace.

**Chapter 11**

Everyone sees the child’s ears, her eyes. No one says a word to Lahria or to Cullen. It isn’t until Josephine is writing the announcement that she asks about the child’s surname. They both look at each other. “She is the last of clan Lavellan,” Lahria says. “But… Atisha Lavellan Rutherford?” Cullen can’t stop smiling, tearing up. “That’s… good. Yes.” He clears his throat, crosses his arms and stares out the window. “Yes.” He waits until Josephine leaves before breaking down.

**Chapter 12**

Atisha is three years old when Lahria’s mark flares bright green and she screams in the middle of a dinner with several emissaries. She collapses to the ground, energy pouring from her body. Cullen is at her side, shouting for healers, when suddenly the mark vanishes. Her hand is clear. An instant later, the earth shakes in waves. She runs for the nursery, Cullen to his soldiers. So she is holding Solas’ child when the veil rips, when magic suffuses the air. She goes to Dorian, immediately, and he shakes his head, eyes wide. They search for the other mages, running to the mage tower to discuss what is happening, toddler on her hip. Everyone is running, screaming, but there's nothing they can do.

**Chapter 13**

The entire world is thrown into chaos, and they continue to work to restore order, while trying to understand what is happening. Cullen can’t handle the magic in the air. It terrifies him, reminds him of the circle, and he finds himself using his Templar abilities when he’s alone to create a bubble of safety, making the world like it was.

**Chapter 14**

_Solas slips into Skyhold unnoticed, comes to her room in the middle of the night. He finds her awake and standing at the balcony._

\---

 “Vhenan.”

Lahria’s heart aches at the sound, and she whirls to find him there.

“You came back.”

He smiles. “I did.”

Lahria swallows down her anger, keeps her voice low and tight. “You left. You didn’t say goodbye. You sent no word. You never answered my calls in the Fade. Where were you?” Her hand is pointing in anger, enunciating each point against him.

He waves a hand through the air, glitter trailing in the magic there. “I was making this.”

_\---_

_Lahria is hella pissed and takes him to task._

_\---_

She shouts the last phrase, and a tiny voice from the small closet-turned-nursery says, “Mamae?”

Lahria winces, and Solas steps back, face going blank. “I had heard you and the Commander had a child. Congratulations.”

At this, Lahria laughs, hard and bitter. “Oh, I had a child.” She steps away from him, toward the nursery. “Come say hello.”

Solas goes pale and takes a step backward, hands up. “I’d rather not.”

“Solas. If you take one more step toward the door, any hope you ever have of speaking with me again will be gone. Do I make myself clear?”

He froze then stepped toward her instead. “Perfectly.”

“Good. Now come meet Atisha.”

 

**Chapter 15**

 

 _Becoming a mother has changed her_ , he thinks. _Or maybe it's the anger_. But she has grown strong, confident in a way she never was when he had known her.

He stood in the doorway as she bent over the little bed. When she speaks to the child, her voice is different. "Did I wake you, da'len?"

‎"Where's Daddy?"

“Still off fighting to keep you safe.”

Tiny dimpled arms raised above the child’s head and Lahria picked the girl up, cradling her to her body.

Solas gasped.

Nestled among the child’s golden curls were two pointed ears, and as she suckled her thumb, she watched him with large, stormy eyes.

The girl’s mother watched him, expression half a grin and half a glare. “This is Solas,” she said. “Can you say hello?”

Atisha took her thumb from her mouth. “Ello, ‘Olath.”

Lahria laughed. “We’re working on S’s.” She pressed a kiss to her daughter’s hair, rocking her back and forth, humming a tune, a Fereldan lullaby.

Solas could see Lahria in the girl’s freckles, in the arch of her brows and soft curve of her cheeks, but those were his eyes, and the soft little dimple in her chin was his, too.

\--- 

“I have a daughter.”

“ _Cullen_ has a daughter.” Lahria crossed her arms. “You got me pregnant and then didn’t speak to me for four years.”

Solas shook his head. “I didn’t know.”

“No, and you didn’t give me any way to let you know.”

He opened his mouth, but shut it again, eyes falling to the ground for a moment, reeling.

_\---_

_He starts grovelling fast and she listens, wary._

_\---_

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Are you going to _really_ stay? No more running off. No more half-truths. No more disappearing with no word. No more leaving me-“ her voice broke.

Solas crossed the room in three steps and had her in his arms. It felt so _good_ to hold her again, even though her shoulders were shaking with sobs and her hands were balled into fists against his chest. He buried his face in her hair, whispered, “I’m so sorry, vhenan. I’m so, so sorry.”

When she could breathe again, she pushed back, making space between them. “I need you to promise me, Solas. Promise me you’re here. For good. Staying. Promise that you’ll deal with me, with Atisha, with Cullen, with this-“ She snapped her fingers and light sparked in the air. “And you’ll tell me _everything_.”

He watched her face as she glared at him.

“If you aren’t able to promise that, then you need to leave. Because I can’t do this.”

 

**Chapter 16**

_Solas stays._  

 

**Chapter 17**

_When Cullen comes back to Skyhold, he walks into the nursery and finds them there, the three of them. Mother and father and child._

\--- 

A jagged spike of fear, of envy, of loss. _Look at them. They belong together._ His mind conjures images in the space of a breath – Solas taking his place in Atisha's life, in Lahria's life. Cullen becoming irrelevant. Cullen no longer needed, soon no longer wanted.

But in that single space of breath, Atisha sees him, pushes out of Solas' arms and flies across the room on tiny pink feet.

“Daddy!”

And the world is so blessedly _right_ again that Cullen has to bury his face in his daughter's curls to keep her from seeing how close he is to tears.

 

* * *

 

That was as far as I got. I had intended to have Cullen and Solas have a LOT of issues with each other. Lahria forgives Solas fairly quickly but Cullen never can, and he's never fully comfortable with Solas becoming part of Atisha's life. Cullen's super insecure, and tries to propose to Lahria to make up for it, which adds more awkwardness.

All the while they're trying to put the world to rights. Solas tells Lahria he's to blame for the world suddenly being flooded with magic, and she is livid, almost more than over his leaving. She's seen nothing but the deaths, the fear, people going to war over this, blaming each other. Demons slipping into their world more easily. It's absolute chaos. 

I don't know how they resolve anything... SORRYYYYYY. I hoped to explore that over time, but didn't get a chance. n_n;;;

I think eventually, after all is done, Lahria can't be with Solas anymore. She doesn't agree with his vision for the world, and once she knows how he did it, she wants to put it back the way it was, and they end up on opposing sides. She still loves him, but he's lied to her too much, kept too many secrets, and caused too much damage. She and Cullen do eventually get married, and they have another daughter - Evelyn Rutherford. They don't tell Atisha that she's not Cullen's biological daughter until she's much older - at least 13 - and able to realize that no half-elf child has ears like hers. She's a little awed by the fact that she's Solas' daughter - since everyone at this point knows what Solas did, if they don't know who exactly he was - but never considers Cullen to be anything less than her Dad. 

Both Atisha and Evelyn are mages. It gives Cullen heart palpitations lol, especially when he spends half their childhoods putting out spontaneous fires and getting shocked randomly. Cullen originally wants more kids - a big family like he grew up with - but he stops to think what a family of tiny blonde mages would do to him lol and he's like... y'know... I think 2 is fiiiiine. 

Dorian trains both of them in magic use, and Cole and Amy babysit. 

**Author's Note:**

> My dragon age tumblr - <http://andrastesass.tumblr.com>


End file.
